Crown
by Shanrock
Summary: A second chance for glory, to stake a claim as the best there ever was. Fighting against all odds, defying those who would stand in the way, and with foes on every side, Ash dares to dream of that one victory. But will he make it far enough to even try?
1. Prologue

**CHAPTER 0**

Darkness.

Darkness in every direction.

A landscape littered with rubble that simply hung in empty space.

No movement.

No escape.

Mortal life had refused to endure this nightmarish existence.

However, one was rising to accept the intolerable challenge. Endurance was a matter of willpower, was it not?

The sanctuary's eternal guardian prowled its domain with watchful eyes. Long since had those red orbs seen the intruder. It continued its everlasting patrol, circling the foreign one from high above.

The intruder just stared. Off into the infinite dusk the guardian called home. Eyes colder than the dark void surveyed all they perceived. Nothing was truly sacred here. Not anymore. Everything bore signs of damage. Of irrevocable erosion.

It was… disgusting. The only beauty left amongst the ruin belonged to the guardian.

Deep down, they were so similar, the guardian and the intruder. Masters of their domain. Loners cast out by those unappreciative. Persecuted for unjust reasons, outside of acceptable control. Ultimately brought together. Surely, fate was silently at work here.

And yet… the guardian had refused to empathise. It saw the intruder as nothing more than that; an alien in its territory. It had allowed the intruder's incessant presence long enough to converse. But simple words meant nothing. Action was the one true validation of spirit.

But the intruder knew that no such action was plausible. Isolation was enemy to standard channels here, one that could not be abolished. Neither force of hand, nor sleight of a sharp tongue were sufficient for change. How cruel the irony of the predicament. Laughable in retrospect, even.

It seemed the guardian was not one who would trust lightly something as fragile as words. Then again, the foreign one _was _an intruder. The guardian's hesitance was noted, without understanding directly. The desire to maintain such complete isolation… a curious thing, it was. If that were the case, the guardian would be verified as being remarkably confident in its abilities.

Such tasks it performed on a momentary basis… One had to marvel at the rationale or reasoning that prompted the guardian to uphold its duty.

That line of thought would not provide a valuable answer, though. Not at the present. More pressing questions were blooming. Ones that required answers to eradicate, before they bred more infernal distractions. Simplicity dictated a focused mind. Clarity would be the saviour.

And so the intruder continued to stare. Off into the endless dormancy.

First attempts at communication had failed. Another method was required.

_But what? …And how?_

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><p><em>Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~<em>


	2. Yellow

**CHAPTER 1**

_Am I a weak trainer…? _

That was the question Ash Ketchum was asking himself over and over again as he laid face-up on his bed in Pallet Town. He would've been staring at the blank darkening ceiling if it weren't for his trademark cap; he'd pulled it down low over his eyes. His arms were folded on top of his usual black-and-yellow striped jacket as he focused intently on his thoughts.

It was ironic, really. Ash had thought all along that Paul would be the one to knock him out of the League. However, he'd triumphed in their battle, his Infernape pulling through for him in the nail-biting finish. He had been so happy to finally chalk up a win against his Sinnoh rival, even earning the melancholy trainer's grudging respect in the process.

_Why? Why did I lose so _badly_?_

Unfortunately for the Pallet Town native, he'd faced a largely unknown trainer named Tobias in the semi-finals, his first visit to the top four of a championship. His happiness evaporated alongside his title campaign as Tobias tore through Ash's team without even breaking a sweat. It took six of Ash's best Pokémon to take out just two of his opponent's, and even though Tobias told him he admired his Pokémon for being able to defeat his Darkrai, it didn't make the loss any easier to swallow. Tobias' utter thrashing of his last opponent hadn't given him any comfort, either.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Ash tried to forget about the ordeal at the League, but his thoughts invaded his mind again. He hadn't been able to get rid of them for the last few hours, so he had locked himself in his room, going over every single move in his battle, trying to work out just _where_, and _why_, it had all gone wrong for him.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_

Ash jolted upright at the sound, sending his hat flying across the room and onto the carpet in front of his bed. After a few seconds of silence, however, he relaxed, slumping back down onto the softness of his mattress, his dark eyes resuming their unfocused staring. He paid no attention to the soft clinking noise coming from beyond the wooden frame of his door, opting to frown at the ceiling instead, as though there was a complex puzzle inscribed into it that he needed to solve.

_The only thing _you _need to do is forget about all this…_ echoed a voice deep within his head.

"Whatever," he grumbled aloud, shutting his eyes in a failed attempt to discourage the voice from resurfacing.

"You talking to yourself again, huh Ashy-boy?"

For the second time in the space of a minute, Ash's body jolted up, his eyes snapping open in an instant as he heard the voice. His head whipped around to see his door wide open, a boy of about his age leaning casually on the door frame. The most noticeable thing about him was the mess of spiky brown hair atop his head, poking out at all angles like a pin-cushion. He was dressed rather simply; a plain, high collared black shirt and full length purple pants which ended at his black sneakers. His face was fixed in a familiar sneer that Ash knew only too well.

"Gary?" Ash yelped, rubbing his neck and looking around for his hat, finally realising it was no longer atop his head. "My door was locked! How'd you get in here?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at his long-time friend. Gary just shrugged nonchalantly and pushed himself off the frame.

"It's not that hard to open these kind of doors from the outside," explained Gary, pointing to the simple revolving lock on the inside door handle. Ash's eyes narrowed even further, up until the point that they were slits, but Gary merely chuckled and waved a hand in response. "Come on Ash, you've been up here for hours. What's bugging ya?" he asked casually, pulling Ash's chair out from under his desk and sitting down back-to-front on it, staring at the darker-haired boy, who had just spotted his beloved hat.

"Who says there's something bugging me?" Ash retorted, getting up and snatching his hat up from the ground before jamming it over his thick black hair. He sat back down on his bed, the mattress sagging slightly under his weight, and he intentionally looked everywhere in the room except at his former rival.

Gary immediately took notice of the behaviour, and he raised an eyebrow at Ash. "Do I _really _need to answer that?"

"Whatever," Ash repeated, lying back down on the bed.

"You're still ticked about that loss in the Sinnoh League, aren't you?" Gary prodded, resting his chin on his forearms.

"A little."

"Because you went up against two legendaries and lost six-two?"

"More or less, yeah…" Ash sighed, propping himself up on his elbows. Gary nodded knowingly.

"Eh, don't let it get you down like this," he advised. Ash remained silent, opting to bow his head and stare at the floor.

"What I'm saying is," Gary continued slowly, getting to his feet and swinging the chair back under the desk, "Just because you got beaten so heavily doesn't mean you should get so down about it. It happens to just about everyone at least once. A good trainer knows to learn from their losses, and use them as motivation for the next battle," he finished wisely.

He let Ash think over his words for a minute, and smiled when he saw his friend nod his head in understanding. "Yeah, I think I get what you're saying," Ash said, after almost a minute of thought, and Gary could hear his voice change in tone as he talked.

"Good. Now come on; whaddaya say to a little battle to cheer you up?" he offered, sneering at Ash like he used to, and Ash's face slowly began to mirror the look.

"You're on!" Ash countered, clambering off his bed and following an already moving Gary out the door.

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><p><em>Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~<em>


	3. Event Horizon

**CHAPTER 2**

The two Pallet Town trainers eyed each other off from opposite sides of a small paddock, located within Professor Oak's facilities. A few of the Pokémon running around the lab stopped their activities and rushed over to watch the two trainers, opting to view the battle from a safe distance, perching themselves on fences and trees to get a good vantage point. A few fleeting clouds floated lazily across the sky high above them, occasionally blotting out the sun from view and throwing vast shadows over the sweeping plains beneath them.

"One-on-one sound alright to you?" Gary called, pulling a Pokéball from his waist and lightly tossing it in his hand.

"Sounds fine to me!" Ash replied, taking his own Pokéball and hurling it high and proud. "Buizel, I choose you!"

The capsule burst open in a bright flash of white light, a slim shape materialising out of the air and gingerly touching down on the grassy ground. As it condensed into a recognisable form, a pail of twin tails became visible, swishing around in the still air behind it. The Pokémon stood at waist height on its back legs, its body covered in vermillion fur. The blue fins on its forearms ruffled as a weak breeze ran by the Pokémon's body, its snout twitching from above the yellow ring around its slender neck.

"_Bwi bwi!"_ barked the Sea Weasel Pokémon confidently, puffing its chest out as it waited in front of Ash for Gary to send out its opponent.

Flicking his wrist, Gary launched his own Pokéball across the paddock with a cry of, "Umbreon, let's go!"

With a second flash of light, Gary's Pokémon popped out of its Pokéball and pranced onto the field, shaking its head as its red eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. The Pokémon's thick tail waved around behind it as it studied the Water type in front, the yellow rings on its body dimming in the lack of moonlight. Both Pokémon assumed a battle stance as they tried to glare each other down, both awaiting an order from their respective trainers.

Gary broke the silence, throwing an arm forwards as he gave an order. "Umbreon, let's start things off with a Shadow Ball!" he commanded, and Umbreon gave a shrill cry as it charged a spinning ball of ghostly-grey energy in front of its open mouth. Its eyes flashed briefly as it swung its head in a circle, shrieking as it blasted the orb at Buizel across the makeshift battlefield.

"Buizel, block that Shadow Ball with a SonicBoom!" Ash countered, Buizel's black nose twitching as the Shadow Ball homed in on it. The Sea Weasel Pokémon leapt into the air, both tails shining with a brilliant light before it swung its body in a full circle and flicked its tails. A shockwave of energy burst forward, whistling sharply as it crashed into Umbreon's attack, splitting it right down the middle and burying itself in the grass. The SonicBoom cut a shallow gouge in the ground as the two halves of the Shadow Ball slid away from each other and promptly exploded, each letting off a large puff of smoke.

Buizel landed gracefully on the ground, snapping its sharp gaze back towards Umbreon, but its vision was obscured by the cloud of smoke between the two combatants. Ash studied the cloud intently along with his Pokémon, waiting for any sign of movement from the other side.

"Quick Attack!" yelled Gary from behind the haze, and without warning, Umbreon streaked through the black cloud, a white coma tailing behind it as it galloped towards Buizel.

"Aqua Jet!" Ash fired hastily. Buizel smirked and instantly shrouded itself in a spray of icy water which intensified into a thick veil as it pounced forwards, spinning its body as it flew headlong into the Dark-type. The extra force provided by the spinning Aqua Jet was enough to overpower Umbreon's attack, and the Moonlight Pokémon was sent flying backwards from Buizel's tackle.

"Umbreon!" Gary cried as his Pokémon crashed to the ground in a heap. "You okay to keep going?" he asked, his face morphing into a smirk as his faithful Dark-type bounded to its feet, shaking the loose covering of water off its black fur. Umbreon gave a shrill bark at Buizel, who sneered back and raised its arms in a taunt.

"Buizel, follow up with a Water Gun!" Ash exclaimed, something sparking to life inside of him. Buizel's jaw clenched for a fraction of a second before it opened its mouth wide and volleyed a powerful jet of water across the field, taking deadly aim at Umbreon's muzzle.

"Let's try another Quick Attack!" Gary said, his Pokémon's head twitching in a minute nod in understanding. Umbreon's form wavered slightly and flickered in the bright sunlight as Buizel's Water Gun bore down relentlessly on it. But the next second it had disappeared into thin air, leaving the Water Gun to drill uselessly into the short grass. A rustle behind Buizel made the Water-type turn around, only for Umbreon to deliver a bone-crunching head-butt into Buizel's midsection, knocking it off its feet.

"SonicBoom, then Water Gun!" Ash ordered, a smirk working its way onto his face; he'd forgotten how fun battling was since his loss to Tobias. Gary noticed the smirk from across the field, and he quickly thought of something, just as Buizel performed a lithe mid-air spin and launched a second shockwave at his Umbreon.

Umbreon saw the attack coming and promptly flattened itself against the ground to avoid the SonicBoom. It winced as it felt the blade of energy rush past its pointy ears, before springing back to its feet, its red eyes locking onto Buizel's black ones. Buizel immediately jettisoned another spire of cold water at Umbreon, catching it unawares and driving it backwards, the Dark-type's black paws carving out shallow trenches in the ground as it fought to hold its footing.

"Umbreon, throw that Water Gun off, then hit Buizel with a Payback!" Gary yelled, Ash's infectious smile working its way onto his own face.

Umbreon gave a low growl as it struggled against Buizel's Water Gun, paws digging deeper into the ground as Buizel strengthened its attack. The Moonlight Pokémon's rings flashed for a fraction of a second, and it threw its head to the side, Buizel's Water Gun spearing over Umbreon's shoulder. Finally free from the power of Buizel's attack, Umbreon bounded forwards, its rings glowing brightly in the sunlight as it closed the distance between itself and Buizel.

"Aqua Jet!"

For the second time, Buizel's body disappeared behind a thick veil of water that enveloped it like a cocoon. Spinning once on the spot to gain momentum, Buizel launched itself straight into Umbreon's path, just as the latter's entire body turned jet-black. The two Pokémon met head-on in a sickening collision that sent sprays of water and flashes of dark energy flying in all directions, accompanied by a miniature shockwave of its own. Both Pokémon touched down on the ground, Umbreon panting heavily and having a bit of trouble standing upright, Buizel leaning heavily on its left side.

"Buizel, how's about another—?"

"Umbreon, return!" Gary called out. Ash started in surprise as Umbreon dissolved into a haze of red light, before being drawn back into the red-and-white ball that Gary held in his outstretched hand. Ash frowned and fumbled at his waist for Buizel's Pokéball, before doing likewise with his Pokémon. After some quiet encouragement to the Sea Weasel Pokémon, Ash marched over to where Gary stood.

"Why'd you recall Umbreon?" he asked, folding his arms. Gary was a little taken aback by the tone of Ash's voice, but didn't let it show.

"What?" Gary replied innocently. "You enjoyed the battle, didn't you?"

"Well, _yeah_, but—"

"Then what's the problem?" Gary smirked, shrugging his shoulders as he looked at Ash. "We both had some fun; it's not as if we were really _trying _to beat each other's Pokémon into unconsciousness. I just figured that you needed a battle to get you in a good mood," he explained, grinning.

Ash held Gary's stare for a good few seconds before he slumped his shoulders and gave a shrug of his own. "Eh, I guess you're right…" he conceded, smiling again.

"Of course I am—!"

"—But next time…" Ash interrupted, bringing a noise of surprise from Gary, "let's finish the battle _properly_, yeah?" he finished, the trademark competitive glint reappearing in his eyes.

"Deal," Gary replied, holding a hand out to seal it, which Ash shook. The two let go quickly, just as Ash's stomach made a violently empty noise, making Ash grin sheepishly.

Ash laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Guess I should eat something instead of thinking about that battle, huh…"

"Well, let's go grab a bite," Gary stated matter-of-factly. He clapped a hand on Ash's shoulder before turning and striding across the grass towards the small gate leading out of the paddock. The Pokémon that had been watching their battle quickly scampered off, resuming their usual activities as though nothing had happened. Ash watched them run off, feeling a slight twinge, before trailing after Gary.

"Hey," Gary said aloud, stopping in his tracks and turning around to face Ash again. "Where's Pikachu?" he asked, noticing that the Electric-type was absent from its usual post on Ash's shoulder.

Ash chuckled. "You mean you only just noticed?" he teased, stopping alongside the brown-haired trainer.

"Well, I was a little more concerned with getting you to stop being so glum," Gary admitted, resting a hand on the top of the gate and leaning on the thin metal frame.

"Fair enough," Ash acknowledged with a twitch of his head. "Pikachu's with mom," he explained.

With a final nod, Gary swung the gate open and exited the paddock, walking out into the streets of Pallet Town, Ash following him and closing the gate behind him. A strong breeze gusted past, threatening to snatch Ash's cap from his head, and he jammed a hat on top to prevent it from flying off. A shape passed in front of the sun overhead, throwing a shadow over the duo as they made their way down the street.

After a good few seconds of silence, Ash spoke up. "So, what've you been—" he began, but a shrill cry from above them cut him off. Both heads jerked skywards, looking for a sign of whatever it was that had made the noise, but they quickly recoiled, having just looked straight at the sun.

"Son of a…" Gary cursed, rubbing his eyes to try and dispel the light from them—Ash doing the same—as several strong gusts of wind raced past. Once he was able to comfortably see again, he reopened his eyes, and tentatively looked up again. This time, he was able to make out what the shape was; it was a large brown-and-white bird with a short stream of multi-coloured plumage fanning out from its head.

"_Pidgeo-tto!" _screeched the bird, soaring down with its wings spread wide and landing a few feet in front of them. Its powerful wings sent a shower of dirt across the dusty road, forcing Ash and Gary to throw an arm over their faces to keep the dirt from getting in their eyes. Once the miniature dust-storm had died down, the two trainers lowered their arms and looked at the Pokémon, who intently stared back.

"Uh…" Ash muttered uncertainly, his hand subconsciously reaching for the Pokéballs at his waist.

"Hold on, Ash," Gary warned, holding a hand out in front of him as though trying to keep him from moving forwards. "Look," he instructed, pointing a finger at the ground the Pidgeotto was standing on. Ash's gaze quickly followed, and he saw that the Flying-type had something looped around its pink talons. Rather, there were _two _somethings.

Two small, golden tubes were affixed to the Pidgeotto's feet, each held in place by a loop of string wound around their respective talon. They appeared to be made of some sort of metal, evidenced by the way their surfaces glimmered in the bright sunlight. Shooting another blank look at Gary, Ash crept forwards, one hand stretched out to detach the two tubes, the other still close to his waist, inching towards the Flying-type.

"_Tto~!_" trilled the Pidgeotto suddenly, making Ash start in surprise, his outstretched hand shooting back. The Pokémon spread its large wings wide and flew up a few feet into the air, gliding gracefully onto Ash's shoulder and perching there, its clawed feet digging slightly into Ash's jacket. Ash winced nervously and turned back to Gary, shrugging his shoulders unhelpfully as Pidgeotto preened a wing with its beak.

"Maybe we're supposed to take whatever it is that's on its feet?" Gary suggested, moving forwards and carefully removing the two canisters. The Pidgeotto chirped gratefully and hopped back onto the ground, resuming its preening as Gary studied the strange objects. Each one was about as long as Gary's hand and roughly one inch in diameter.

"What _are _they?" Ash wondered aloud, yanking one of the canisters out of Gary's hands and turning it this way and that as he examined it. Fortuitously, he managed to tilt it so that the sunlight illuminated a small depression running around the side of the object, near one of the ends. "Hey! I found something!" he exclaimed, quickly jamming his fingers into the depression and prising the cylinder open.

"These things slide apart?" Gary inquired, having just witnessed the demonstration, and he tried to mimic Ash's actions, squinting at the polished metal to find the depression. Ash ran his fingers along the surface of Gary's tube for a few seconds until he hit a small bump, and he pointed this out to Gary. "Oh right. Cheers," he said thankfully, opening his canister and peering inside.

It appeared to be completely empty and featureless, save for the paper-coloured coat of paint on the interior surface. Gary even brought the rim up to his eye and looked inside, hoping that there was more to the object than first met the eye, but alas, he still couldn't see anything inside it. Frustrated, Gary tipped the canister upside down and gave a sharp slap on the base. A roll of paper slipped out of the open cylinder and gently fell to the ground with a small puff of dust.

Still slightly wary, Gary picked up the piece of paper, unfurled it, and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Ketchum—_

_We are—_

"Oops," Gary said quickly, rolling the piece of paper back up and holding it out for Ash, who gave him a puzzled look. "It's for you," Gary clarified, a little sheepishly.

"Really?" asked Ash, his eyebrows shooting up and disappearing into his dark hair. He looked at the roll in Gary's hand, then back at his own canister. "Guess this one must be yours, then," he added quietly, taking the roll of paper from Gary and replacing it with the canister.

"You think?" Gary joked, whacking the roll of paper out of the second canister and catching it before it hit the ground. In front of him, Ash unrolled his letter and read it.

_Dear Mr. Ketchum—_

_We are delighted to inform you that you have been invited to participate in the inaugural Summit Conference. This decision was reached after examining your previous League achievements, and our review panel unanimously agreed that you qualified for invitation. You were one of the two hundred and fifty-six trainers selected by our panel to extend an invitation to._

_The Summit Conference is to be held at the Crown Battleground in southern Hoenn, starting two weeks from today. Please verify your attendance at the Conference by registering at your nearest Pokémon Center or Pokémon Lab. You will need your Pokédex, as well as the five-digit verification code located at the bottom of this letter in order to register. All Pokémon Centers have been notified of the correct registration process._

_Once registered for the Conference, please remove the boat ticket at the bottom of this letter and make your way to the designated harbour to board a ship for the Battleground. You may bring any number of guests to accompany you to the Conference, but be advised that they will be housed in separate lodgings during the tournament. If you decide to bring guests, you will be required to notify both the ship's captain and the registration centre at the Battleground itself as to who your guests are._

_The Battleground features state of the art training and battling facilities, designed specifically for this tournament. Trainers are encouraged to make full use of these facilities, even if they are not competing directly in the tournament. Be advised that in order to use these facilities, trainers must be able to produce a full set of badges from at least one region._

_We await your response and hope that you will be able to compete in the Summit Conference._

_Yours sincerely,_

—_Jeremy Michaels, Secretary to Charles Goodshow_

_Pokémon League Committee_

The declaration was accompanied by several logos and a very fancy, looped signature scrawled underneath them. Ash's eyes trailed down to the bottom of the letter where, sure enough, he saw the five-digit code mentioned in the letter, as well as the boat ticket, also specified in the notice. He chuckled to himself as he saw that the boat ticket could merely be ripped off the bottom of the letter, the faint dotted line being a bit of a giveaway.

Ash glanced up from his invitation at Gary, who was immersed in his own letter, his eyes darting left and right as he read it. The Pidgeotto who had delivered the letters to the pair of them cocked its head and looked upwards at the two, its eyes flashing red for the briefest of moments as a small white light sparked inside its irises. However, the light was gone as quickly as it had appeared and its eyes immediately returned to their usual shade of black.

The Pidgeotto gave a loud squawk before spreading its large wings and taking off, kicking up the familiar cloud of dust as it left the two trainers on the ground below. Neither Ash nor Gary seemed particularly interested in it, though, instead being focused on what the Bird Pokémon had brought them.

"Hey Ash," Gary said, his voice sounding strangely distant as he finished his letter. Ash leaned forwards. "…Are you gonna go in this thing?" he asked earnestly, his eyes finally leaving the page and locking onto Ash's.

Ash considered the question very carefully. Like Gary had hinted at earlier, the prospect of battle always got him in a good mood. And it was true; battling brought out Ash's better side. Plus, it'd give him a great chance to get his form back after his recent loss at the Sinnoh League. A lot of strong trainers were bound to be there, so it'd make sense for him to go. On the other side, however, he didn't want to rush headlong into a brand-new tournament without making sure that he was ready, in terms of his Pokémon's health and his own mentality.

"Hello?" Gary sighed, waving a hand in front of Ash's face. "Earth to Ash," he droned, snapping his fingers an inch from his friend's nose.

"What?"

"Are you gonna go in this thing?" he repeated, pointing to the invitation and waving it in front of his face this time.

"Are you?"

"Uh, I asked you first, Ashy-boy."

Another short silence ensued before Ash said anything, in which another grumble echoed up from Ash's stomach. "Yeah," he finally muttered, tweaking his cap. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot," he added confidently. The spark in his eyes was unmistakeable this time. "You?"

"You bet," Gary replied, pumping the air with a fist. "I've been waiting for something like this to come around. Something where only the best of the best are competing. You know what I'm saying?" he asked, and Ash nodded vigorously in response.

"I hear ya," Ash answered with a nod of the head. A few seconds passed before he continued. "According to that ticket, the boat leaves for the Battleground in seventeen days," he recounted, pocketing the invitation. "So that gives us ten days to get in some serious training."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gary grinned.

"But first," Ash said suddenly, "how's about that bite to eat you said we should get?" With that, Ash turned on his heels and took off towards Professor Oak's lab, leaving Gary behind in his wake. The brown-haired trainer chuckled in surprise and ran down the street after Ash, shouting good-heartedly at him. "Hey, I'm starving!" Ash yelled over his shoulder as he ran, feet flying over the warm dirt road as Gary let out a raucous laugh.

* * *

><p><em>Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~<em>


	4. Alarms Seeing Red

**CHAPTER 3 – ALARMS SEEING RED**

Ash awoke slowly from within the snug confines of his bed, yawning as he luxuriously stretched his arms, his knuckles brushing lightly against the plaster wall above his headrest. Shifting the covers off himself and swinging his legs off the side of the mattress, he saw his oldest friend curled up at the foot of his bed. Pikachu's small yellow body was rising and falling softly as the Electric-type breathed in and out, its lightning-bolt-shaped tail twitching absently as it snored peacefully. Smiling softly at Pikachu's sleeping form, he gently patted a hand on its head, making sure not to wake it up by accidentally putting too much pressure on its pointed ears.

Springing up off his bed and onto the thick carpet, he stretched again, thankful that his mother had drawn the blinds shut. The last few days, he'd woken up from a long sleep after an exhaustive training session the previous night, only to be hit with a face full of harsh sunlight, which had resulted in a few mumbled curses from the Pallet Town trainer on each occasion. Shade was his friend in the early mornings, even when it wasn't hot.

Discarding his wonderings about the previous week, Ash quickly changed into his usual outfit, keeping the blinds down even to shield his room from the morning sun. Pikachu stirred as it felt Ash's shirt flop down on the bed next to it, groggily shaking its head and blinking rapidly as its eyes quickly adjusted to the darkened room. Lifting its small shoulders, Pikachu let out a long yawn, before succumbing to the softness of the quilt it was resting on, its head slumping back onto the covers.

"_Pii_…" Pikachu mumbled, its ears drooping as Ash stripped off his pyjamas pants and hung them untidily over the chair next to his desk.

"Morning, buddy," Ash said happily as Pikachu scratched its long ears, stumbling to all fours. Ash chuckled and pulled on his jeans, not at all surprised by Pikachu's display. He and his Pokémon had been training like crazy for the last two weeks – just as Gary had suggested – and they'd gone to bed every night thoroughly exhausted. Although Ash considered his training methods to be above par, Gary was orders of magnitude more intense than Ash was in his training.

Pikachu still looked to be a bit worse for wear, Ash noted, particularly after its session the previous afternoon with Gary's Electivire. Although Pikachu had been able to work on its speed techniques and Iron Tail, it still hadn't been able to best, or even come _close_ to besting Electivire in a fair fight.

"Today's the big day, Pikachu," Ash announced, pulling on his fingerless gloves and scooping a still-tired Pikachu up from his bed and propping him on his shoulder. Pikachu tottered to one side before leaning against Ash's head. "Come on! Show some excitement!" Ash said, his voice bubbly. Pikachu made a non-committal noise as Ash walked over and threw the blinds open.

Sunlight streamed into the once-dark room, flooding the interior with brilliance as Ash gazed outside at the clear blue sky overhead. A few sparse cirrus clouds were drifting in from over the top of Mt. Silver to the west, looking like a collection of cotton candy pieces. He shielded his eyes from the glare as he lowered his line of sight, spotting Viridian Forest way off in the distance, a flock of bird Pokémon flying to it from the edges of Pallet Town.

"Wow…" Ash whispered, still staring out the closed window as he conversed with the sleepy Pokémon on his shoulder. "Isn't it a beau—?"

"_Ash, get your lazy butt down here already!"_

Ash jerked forwards at the noise, smacking his nose against the window before recoiling in pain, clutching a hand to his face. Wincing at the throbbing sensation in his nose—Pikachu grimly holding onto Ash's hat for support—he chanced a peek out the glass pane, quickly dropping his eyes to the ground. His dark eyebrows shot up in honest surprise as he saw that Gary was standing on the front lawn, hands on his hips, face furrowed in a scowl as he glared up at Ash. Ash's face went blank momentarily before he waved sheepishly at Gary with his free hand. Even though Ash couldn't quite make it out from his vantage point—the hand holding his nose not exactly helping matters—Gary's scowl intensified at the gesture.

Hastily undoing the latch on his window, Ash finally took his hand away from his face, tugging on the frame and throwing the window open. "Morning, Gary!"

"Morning?" Gary roared indignantly, making Ash jump again. "Do you have any _idea_ what time it is?" he shouted up to Ash, glaring at him.

Ash's face reassumed its blank look for several seconds, waiting for something to click. _Uh… _Ash remained still and silent for a good couple of moments before speaking up. "…Breakfast time?" he said sheepishly, shrugging. Gary's mouth fell open.

"_Breakfast?_" he screamed. The brown-haired trainer held Ash with a serious stare for a few seconds, but after receiving no response Gary groaned, closed his eyes and slapped a palm to his forehead in agitation.

"So I'm assuming it's _not_ breakfast time?" Ash asked innocently.

"Just…get down here!" Gary called up to Ash in a somewhat defeated voice.

"Come on Gary, I've barely been up ten minutes!" Ash whined. "Can't we do some more training after I've at least _eaten _something?" he offered, thinking with his stomach as per usual, but not helping the matter at hand. Something Gary took note of.

"You can get something to eat on the boat," Gary snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at Ash again.

"Boat?" Ash repeated blankly. Pikachu sighed quietly from its post on Ash's shoulder before jumping onto the chair behind him, digging around in his backpack. "What boat?" he asked curiously as Pikachu tugged something out of the bag and bounded out the door and into the hallway.

"The _boat_," Gary said seriously. "You know, the one that we're supposed to be taking to the Battleground?" he added condescendingly, gesturing with his hands.

"Oh, right!" Ash yelped. "But," he continued, sensing a flaw in Gary's reasoning, "The boat's not leaving for another two days, right?"

"_The boat's leaving in half an hour!" _Gary bellowed, tiring of Ash's thick-headedness.

"WHAT?" Ash yelled in shock. "How can it be leaving in half an hour?"

"Because _you_ slept in, you idiot!" Gary retorted. "We were supposed to leave for Vermillion City last night, but _you_ fell asleep after our last training session!" he explained loudly.

Ash groaned loudly, bowing his head and slumping against his bedroom wall, the sunlight teasingly playing on his face. "You sure you got the date right?" he asked earnestly, ignoring the sound of a door clicking open from downstairs. Gary raised an eyebrow at Ash in response, his hands on his hips as if to say '_are you questioning me?'_ "Alright, alright…"

"Anyways, just get down here, and hurry up!" Gary called impatiently. He'd already been delayed by Ash enough for one day. Enough for a whole year, really.

"Why? The boat's in Vermillion City and we're still here in Pallet Town!"

Gary rolled his eyes from his post on the lawn and gave Ash an odd look. "I know that," he stated flatly. "But I figured out a way around it; why do you think we trained for the whole seventeen days instead of taking the last few off to travel to Vermillion?" he asked rhetorically, Ash's face going almost completely blank for a second.

"…But how're we gonna get from _here_ to Vermillion in less than thirty minutes?" he asked curiously, the smirk on Gary's face telling him that he'd clearly overlooked something. In the short pause that followed, in which Gary chuckled in amusement to himself, Pikachu meandered out onto the lawn, a piece of paper between its teeth. The Mouse Pokémon plonked itself down on the ground in front of Gary, waving up at Ash with its paws, who stared back confusedly.

"Come on Ash, you don't think I've got a plan?" Gary sneered, pulling a Pokéball from his belt and opening it in a quick burst of light, Pikachu jumping slightly at the flash.

A tall, roughly human-shaped creature emerged from the light, standing on two spindly, golden legs which ended in two-toed feet. It appeared to wearing a brown suit of battle-armour over its chest, its thin arms snaking out from under its high shoulders. Covering its forearms were two brown bracers, ending at the Pokémon's wrists and leading way to its three-fingered hands, both of which were clutching a small metallic object. Its vast, V-shaped head looked to be far too big for its thin frame to hold up, but somehow it was maintaining its balance, the Pokémon's flowing, golden moustache twitching as it spotted Ash on the upper floor of his house.

Ash mentally kicked himself as he saw the Pokémon, having encountered several during his time as a Pokémon trainer. "Ugh…forgot he had one of those…" he grumbled, slapping a palm to his forehead.

"Alakazam can Teleport us over there no problems," Gary smirked, allowing himself some comic relief before his tone hardened again. "But we're still gonna need some time to find the right dock, remember?" he told Ash, pulling his boat ticket out and waving it in front of him.

"_Pii pikachu!" _Pikachu chirped, holding the piece of paper it took from Ash's backpack in its arms. Ash stared down at his long-time companion, eyes widening as he identified the piece of paper as his own boat ticket.

_How'd it get that out of…?_ he mused, spinning around and shooting a suspicious glance at his backpack, which was slung innocently over his chair. He slowly turned back to the window, keeping his eyes trained on the backpack as though expecting it to burst into laughter at him, before he shoved his head outside the gap between window and sill.

"I'll be down in a minute, okay?" he informed Gary, who sighed with relief in having finally gotten through to Ash. With that, he ducked back inside, jammed the window shut and packed his backpack at top speed; Pokéballs, Pokédex, clothes, spare items, you name it. Once he was satisfied with his work, he slid his arms through the loops in his pack, threw his bedroom door open and bolted down the hall, taking the stairs three at a time as he raced outside, saying a quick "bye!" to Delia before hurtling out the front door.

* * *

><p>Vermilion City was surprisingly quiet for this time of day, certainly not the bustling town that it was known for. The main streets were almost deserted, very odd for a sunny Saturday afternoon, the glaring sun beating down on the tall buildings at the city centre and throwing haphazard shadows across the grey sidewalks. A salty sea breeze whistled through the quiet city, the evergreen trees lining the streets gently swaying to and fro in the wake of the soft air currents. The odd leaf drifted lazily to the ground from the breeze's buffeting, reflected in the translucent windows of some of the city's larger buildings.<p>

On the outskirts of Vermilion's CBD, a pack of wild Meowth darted amongst the side streets, their keen eyes peering about for any signs of fresh food before scampering off again on their search. Mistaking the swirling wind for the sound of approaching humans, they stuck to the shadows, inching closer to each other for fear of being separated. The group followed their normal route away from the unusually lifeless city centre, foraging through overturned trash cans and the like as they trudged through the alleyways.

Near the city's entrance, one of the Meowth detected an almost inaudible noise echoing across from beyond the city's welcoming arch. Its golden eyes swivelling around to the rest of its pack, it gave a low growl at two of the frontrunners, nodding its head in the direction of the entrance, even though the shed to their immediate left was barring their line of sight. After receiving understanding growls from each other, the three Normal-types slowly made their way to the end of the darkened alleyway, weaving between the rubbish strewn over the ground before coming to a stop just shy of the corner.

"Hey, I told you already, I'm just not used to it, that's all…" echoed an irritated voice from just around the corner, the Meowth tensing slightly as they recognised the voice as belonging to a human. The pack's leader growled warningly, and silence once again fell over the alley as the Cat Pokémon tuned their ears to the outside street.

"Beats flying," said another voice, nasally, and slightly higher-pitched than the first.

"Flying doesn't result in you falling flat on your face when you land," grumbled the first voice.

"_Piikaaa…_"

One of the Meowth nearest to the corner turned to its fellows upon hearing the Pikachu, giving them a confused glance before boldly sticking its head around the corner. About a third of the way down the street, the Cat Pokémon could make out two shapes—three, counting the Pikachu atop one of the other's shoulder. The other two shapes, in the Meowth's opinion, looked to be human males, judging by their body shapes. One had a mess of spiky brown hair atop its head, the other, black hair hidden beneath a black-and-red baseball cap.

Upon noticing that the two humans were busy talking between themselves, the Meowth relaxed slightly, deciding that they posed no threat to it or its pack. It communicated its thoughts to the rest of its pack via a series of quiet purrs, indistinguishable to most people. Once the message had been relayed, the remainder of the pack went back to foraging whilst the Meowth nearest the abandoned street resumed its lookout duties.

Poking its head back around the corner of the shed, it restrained a yelp as it noticed a fourth figure behind the two males and the Pikachu. It was half a head taller than the humans, rather lanky, and had a golden body with brown pads on its joints. The Pokémon's thin frame shifted ever so slightly as it walked, locking its eyes onto the Meowth and regarding it with an intense glare as it drew closer. Identifying the Pokémon as an Alakazam, the Meowth squealed in fright and ducked back into the alleyway, drawing a berated hiss from its fellows.

"Did you hear that?" Gary asked curiously, hearing a minute noise down the street and looking over at his Psi Pokémon. The Alakazam simply stared back and twitched its long moustache in response, and Gary seemed to get the message, because he gave a casual shrug as he led the motley group down the deserted street.

"_Why _couldn't we have flown over?" Ash groaned, holding a hand to his stomach as he stalked a couple of steps behind Gary. He wasn't used to Teleporting, by any stretch of the word, and he was still feeling slightly queasy after being Teleported almost five hundred miles in half a second. "And don't say—!"

"Because you slept in," Gary answered smartly. Ash's head slumped forwards, ignoring the soft sound of retreating Pokémon as they made their way further into the slumbering city.

"And remind me why we had couldn't have Teleported straight to the docks?" he said.

"Because the docks are gonna be as crowded as a Combee nest by now," Gary said firmly, shooting Ash's question down. "If Alakazam had have Teleported straight there, we would've either freaked out a couple of hundred people, or we could've ended up Teleporting _into _someone."

"Yeah, neither of those sound good," Ash conceded, still not liking the fact that they'd had to Teleport to the city's outskirts. "Can't we just stop for a minute?" he pleaded, Pikachu voicing its support from its perch on his shoulder as they passed by the imposing building that was the Vermilion City Gym. The twin lightning peaks adorning the apex of the Gym's doors provided a quick moment of relaxing shade as they walked past, Pikachu enjoying the second's respite.

"No," Gary said simply, not bothering to break stride.

"Why not?" Ash whined.

"We're late enough as it is," Gary explained grumpily, plucking a Pokéball off his belt and recalling his Alakazam in a red flash of light. "The quicker we get to the docks, the quicker you can sit down and rest."

"We'd be there a lot quicker if your Alakazam would've Teleported us a bit closer," Ash pointed out meekly, making sure to keep his voice quiet enough so that Gary couldn't hear. Pikachu suppressed a quiet giggle at the comment, Ash smiling weakly at his Pokémon's efforts. "How much longer until we're at the docks, then?" he asked Gary, who considered the question for a while.

"Ten minutes, maybe?" he offered with a shrug. "Just remember that they're on the other side of the town," he added. "And _yes_, I _was _aware of that when we Teleported here," he said loudly, Ash hastily closing his mouth and choosing not to try and retort him.

"Well well well, look who's back in Vermilion City," boomed a loud voice behind him. Ash and Gary instinctively spun on the spot—Pikachu clinging onto Ash's hoodie for dear life—only to find themselves staring at the chest of an extremely tall man wearing a dark brown shirt, which was currently open and showing off his very well-built torso. Eyes snapping upwards to the man's face, they saw a pair of dark eyes peering down at them from behind a rather large nose. His blond hair was spiked upwards into a shape resembling a Zigzagoon's tail, the spikes accentuating his height as he towered above the two younger trainers.

The man's face split into a wide grin as Ash recognised him and took a step backwards. Even though he certainly provided a lot of shade, particularly at this time of day, it wasn't too hard to injure one's neck trying to keep eye contact whilst standing that close to him.

"Surge!" Ash exclaimed in honest surprise. Pikachu shuffled around on Ash's shoulder, nodding at the Vermilion City Gym Leader. Although it had gotten its revenge on Surge's Raichu in their second gym battle, Pikachu had by no means forgotten the beating it had received in the first match. Something Surge seemed to pick up on immediately.

"Now now, Pikachu," Surge said casually, still grinning as he airily waved a broad hand in the air. "You got us good the second time, so there's no hard feelings, yeah?" he offered arrogantly. The Electric-type narrowed its eyes at Surge but nodded happily all the same.

"Wait," Gary interrupted, holding a hand out. "You beat Surge with your Pikachu when you were just starting out?" he asked earnestly. Although Gary had come to respect Ash's battling capabilities in the recent past, there were still a lot of holes in Gary's knowledge when it came to how Ash went in his first year. Admittedly, Gary hadn't bothered to ask or even listen, having been too caught up in his own adventures, but he was still intrigued.

"He sure did," Surge admitted, and Ash was honestly amazed to hear praise in his voice. "Taught me a lot in that battle, too," the American added. Ash blanched in the sunlight, and Surge roared heartily with laughter. "So, how've you two been doin' lately?" he asked conversationally.

"Uh, not too badly, I guess," Ash said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I made the top four in the Sinnoh League," he added nonchalantly.

"Guess that isn't too bad, then," Surge grinned, giving Ash a thumbs-up. Pikachu smiled happily at Surge, thankful that his attitude was different to the last time they'd met.

"How's Raichu?" Ash asked. Next to him, Gary frowned and impatiently checked his watch again, his frown lifting when he saw that they still had a bit over ten minutes until the boat was scheduled to leave.

"He's doing great!" Surge said proudly, taking a Pokéball from his belt and opening it in a quick flash of white. The light quickly condensed into a small, plump shape that reached up to Ash's waist, its long, black-framed ears curling slightly at the ends as the Pokémon raised itself to its full height. As its lightning-bolt shaped tail curved around behind its orange body, Surge's Raichu smirked at Pikachu, its cheeks crackling with electricity as it spotted its one-time adversary.

"_Rai!_" Raichu cried, eyes glinting as it tried to stare Pikachu down, Ash's Mouse Pokémon not giving an inch.

"I can see that Raichu's certainly gotten tougher," Ash commented lightly.

"I could say de same about your Pikachu," Surge countered. "I heard that the little guy took out a Regice last year."

"True, but—" Ash said dismissively, "I reckon Raichu could still give Pikachu a run for its money, so long as you've been working on those speed moves, eh?" he added competitively, remembering how he'd triumphed over Surge in their rematch all those years ago.

The Vermilion Gym Leader laughed jovially. "Well, whaddaya say to a quick battle?" he offered, Raichu's paws curling into fists in front of him as though daring Ash to accept the challenge. Ash seriously considered the proposal, and it seemed Pikachu was as well, judging by the electricity sparking from its cheeks, but Gary decided to step in.

"Sorry, but he can't battle right now, Surge," he said sternly. Ash turned to Gary in surprise, but Gary shook his head and pointed to his watch. "We've only got nine minutes until the boat leaves. We stop for a battle and we're gonna miss it."

"Boat?" Surge repeated blankly, scratching at his blond hair. Raichu briefly glanced at its trainer before turning back to Pikachu, its interest piqued.

"Yeah, me and Gary were invited to this new tournament being held over in Hoenn," Ash explained, only just now realising that they'd been standing here talking for almost five minutes. Oddly enough, the fact that the street was empty didn't register to him in the slightest.

Surge remained silent for a few moments, brooding over Ash's comments. "Oh!" he said suddenly, making Pikachu jump comically from its perch on Ash's shoulder. "Are you talking about the Summit Conference?" he asked, his loud voice echoing down the street.

"That's the one," Ash nodded.

"It sounds to me like you two should get goin'. I wouldn't want you to miss your boat, now would I?" Surge smirked, jerking his head down the street.

"'Kay then," Ash said. Pikachu nodded at Raichu, who seemed to understand that it wouldn't be getting a rematch today, because the taller Mouse Pokémon mirrored the movement, still smirking at Pikachu. Surge waved goodbye to the two trainers and turned to head back to the Gym, but stopped halfway.

"Make sure you do Kanto proud at that Conference, kid," he said smartly with another thumbs-up, Raichu mimicking him before the two disappeared under the twin lightning bolts and into the gym.

_I will, don't you worry_, Ash thought confidently. His competitive spirit flared up inside of him, ready to let loose, but it fell back as Gary snatched at his arm and began dragging him down the street.

"Hurry up!" Gary said, breaking into a sprint as he guided Ash and Pikachu through the fortuitously uncrowded streets and towards the noisy docks.

* * *

><p><em>Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~<em>


	5. Big Brother

**CHAPTER 4 – BIG BROTHER**

On the top floor of a multi-storeyed building overlooking a sweeping ocean, an elderly man in his mid-seventies peered out of a ceiling high window, enjoying the magnificent view. From his vantage point, he could see the northern edge of the island the building sat upon, the jagged cliffs at the edge abruptly giving way to a roiling blue tide that surged against the rocky walls. Night had long fallen over the island, and as such the only hint of the ocean's existence was the noise echoing up to him from the cliff edge.

The man closed his small eyes and focused on the sounds of the lapping water. The last few weeks had taken a toll on him, both physically and mentally, and the faint echoing of the surging tides was instilling a growing sensation of fatigue in his weathered limbs. Knowing that there were still things to finalise, Charles Goodshow turned away from the window, ignoring the lavishly decorated office he was standing in and focusing on the two men in front of him.

"Have we received word from all the participants?" he asked tiredly, his light voice muffled slightly from behind his thick white beard.

The shorter of his two colleagues spoke up, motioning a hand towards a huge television screen set against the far wall. "Indeed we have, sir," he answered. Goodshow glanced over at the screen, seeing a collage of photographs on display, people of varying size, age and ethnicity in them. His eyes lingering briefly over a few trainers he recognised from a previous Conference, Goodshow turned back to the man.

"Thank you, Jeremy," he said gratefully. Jeremy Michaels' head twitched in a tiny nod, his face rather devoid of any recognisable expression at the kind words. He had a rather sallow face with a firmly set jaw, his somewhat large ears poking out from beneath his thinning, black hair, which wound its way around his high forehead. Unusually for a man indoors, Michaels' eyes were well hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses.

Goodshow—and indeed most of the other members of the PLC—had always found Michaels' sunglasses a point of amusement. He was almost always seen wearing them, even when he was indoors or when it was pitch-black outside. At the present time, he was wearing them in both. Switching the television screen off with a press of a button, Michaels straightened the expensive suit he was also never seen without.

Admittedly, Goodshow had been a tad apprehensive about hiring Michaels a few years ago; he rarely showed any unprovoked emotion, and had an uncanny knack of being able to predict how people would react to just about anything. Michaels was also a high ranking agent of the International Police, something that made a few other PLC members slightly nervous. In hindsight, though, the PLC president didn't regret the decision in the slightest; if it wasn't for Michaels' insight, the Summit Conference wouldn't even be off the ground yet.

"We've also received correspondence from the Unova region, confirming their participation in the tournament," said the man on Michaels' left. He was quite tall, and had a remarkably handsome face with a pair of striking blue eyes. Short, well-combed, brown hair lined the edges of his visage, just above the upturned collar of the deep blue jacket he wore. The golden shoulders of the jacket glimmered commandingly from next to Michaels' head, the latter being a good six inches shorter than his colleague. A set of navy blue bracers covered the man's forearms, ending in a pair of traditional white gloves. He looked more like royalty than a consultant.

"Letters from the Committee's Unova branch," he added, holding one of his gloved hands out, a stack of sealed envelopes in its grasp. His voice was smooth, dignified and collected, but not snobbish as one would usually expect from someone dressed in his manner.

"Thank you, too, Samsara," Goodshow said, taking the letters and tucking them into a pocket of his red blazer. He really meant his words, too; Samsara had worked harder than anyone else at the Committee to organise the tournament, trawling through ten years of Conference coverage to select only the best competitors to extend invitations to.

"Much appreciated," Samsara said politely, giving Goodshow a curt bow, a wisp of hair bobbing down from his fringe before being tucked back. Samsara was one of Goodshow's personal favourites as far as PLC consultants went. Although Samsara wasn't his first name, he never took offence when anyone—even Goodshow himself—referred to him by his surname. He was polite, refined, always well dressed and although he spoke in a quiet voice, he exuded authority as though it was his birth right. Plus, he added a certain PR value to the Committee, his youthful face a stark reminder that the Committee wasn't full of "old geezers" like Goodshow.

"How are preparations for the opening ceremony coming along?" Goodshow asked his two aides, relieved over the information just relayed to him.

"Everything is already in place," Michaels said, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose. "We're just waiting for the pyrotechnics to set up the fireworks display."

"Wonderful news," Goodshow smiled. "I must say, Jeremy, you've really outdone yourself in preparing this event," he praised. Michaels smiled tiredly at the sentiments, Goodshow guessing that he, too, was severely exhausted from the effort of coordinating the tournament's eventual proceedings.

Samsara glanced at Michaels for the tiniest fraction of a second before his eyes darted back to Goodshow. "Well—" he said softly, his tone betraying a hint of fatigue, "as it seems that the preliminary preparations are all in order, I must be on my way," he continued with a gracious nod at Goodshow and Michaels.

"Take care, Samsara," Goodshow nodded, shaking the tall man's gloved hand before Samsara turned and strode to the double oak doors that marked the office's entrance, pulling them open and disappearing behind them. Before too long, the soft thudding of his black winged boots were swallowed up by the sounds of the roiling ocean.

A half-silence followed Samsara's departure, neither of the two men in the office making a noise. Goodshow's eyes were firmly fixed on the oak doors, a frown creasing his wrinkled brow. Michaels stood as still as a statue, intently watching Goodshow from behind his shades. The silent stalemate continued for a long minute, the only hint of life in the room being the rhythmic blinking of a VCR.

"Sir, is there something bothering you?" Michaels asked slowly, breaking the odd silence. Goodshow shook his head after a moment of contemplation, during which Michaels took a step closer to his boss. He opened his mouth to say something, but upon reconsidering promptly shut it, opting instead to wait for Goodshow to speak.

"I'm worried about Samsara," Goodshow sighed eventually, turning back to the window and tucking his hands behind his back, concern dominating his face.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Michaels replied, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. "He knows how to handle all this," he continued. "It's not his first time organising a tournament of this size."

"I know that," Goodshow muttered, a little harshly. Michaels noted the change in tone but his face refused to show it. "He just seems a bit… off… lately, if you know what I mean."

"Quite understandable," he said. "Perhaps it's because he's been stuck observing all that Conference footage."

"Perhaps…" Goodshow concurred. Michaels nodded at Goodshow's turned back and headed for the door.

"I believe this is where I take my leave tonight," he stated, one hand already on the door's bronze handle.

"Goodnight, Jeremy," Goodshow called after him as his secretary pulled the door open and disappeared behind the frame. "Wait!" he said suddenly, just as the door swung to within a sliver of being shut.

"Yes?" Michaels inquired, pushing the door ajar and sticking his head back through the opening.

Goodshow stood with his back to Michaels for almost a full minute, carefully weighing his words. "Can I trust you to keep an eye on Samsara?" he asked.

"Only if I can ask _why_," Michaels countered.

"He's been put under a lot of stress lately, what with organising the Conference and everything," he explained, Michaels detecting a wisp of regret in the old man's tone. "It would be a terrible shame if all the extra stress made him crack, so I'd like for you to just keep a watch on him. Make sure he's handling the tournament properly," he added concisely.

"Will do," Michaels nodded. He closed the door behind him, leaving a slightly less-burdened Charles Goodshow alone in the magnificent office. Ignoring the bright chandelier halfway down the hallway, Michaels pulled a Pokéball off his belt and opened it in a flash of light.

The burst lit up everything in the corridor barring Michaels' sunglasses, their owner staring back emotionlessly as a huge, cobalt-blue shape emerged from the sphere. A vast, roughly cylindrical drum composed most of the Pokémon's bulk, where two red, crescent moons were splashed onto its front, looking like the eyes of a demon. Sitting above a ring of silver mounted on the drum's top was what could roughly be called an elongated arch. Two strips of blue metal continued down past the rim of the Pokémon's body, curving slightly at the end as though they were streaks of hair.

The Pokémon let out a deep gong from the depths of its body, the noise rattling the crystals of the hall's chandelier. "_Brohhhnnnn…_" boomed the Bronze Bell Pokémon.

"Bronzong, stay here and guard Charles," he told his Pokémon. It was more out of habit than anything else that he was telling his Pokémon to protect someone else. Although there was minimal risk of anything happening to Charles until the tournament started, Michaels knew that it was unwise to take chances.

_Especially with that notification we all received on Thursday_, he thought, as Bronzong nodded its sightless head and floated over to take guard in front of the office's door. Wordlessly, Michaels turned on his heels and strode off, the sound of his black shoes on the polished floor echoing off his Bronzong's large body.

* * *

><p>Samsara strode through the building's immaculate lobby, passing right underneath a second grand chandelier which hung from the high ceiling. A sheet of sky-blue tiles covered the lobby's floor, the rigid ceramic echoing the sounds of Samsara's winged boots as he made his way for the exit; a pair of heavily tinted, sliding glass doors. The doors slid apart without so much as a whisper, a gust of cold wind rushing inside to greet Samsara as he strode outside.<p>

Habitually, his eyes darted upwards towards the sky, smiling as the random assortment of stars twinkled back at him. Casting his gaze back to ground level, he let them wander over the expansive island before him, and his smile widened at how quickly everything had been built. Less than two years ago, the island had been almost featureless, home to a scarce few packs of Pokémon and a rather monotonous plain of sweeping green grass. Since then, the Committee had moved in, and had constructed the entire Battleground within eighteen months, the monolithic buildings bearing testament to the millions of hours of labour that had gone into the effort.

A sprawling set of marble stairs led down the slope from the Committee's resident building to the pavement lining the brightly lit street below. Stretching out to both sides before curving around in the distance, the street eventually wound its way around the entire island, serving as a continual loop to ensure that one could always follow it to find the correct destination. Off past the collection of stores, cafés and merchandise shops, Samsara could see the faint outline of the Battleground's pride and joy; a gigantic stadium surrounded by a moat of dark-blue water, situated dead centre in the middle of the Battleground.

Glancing left from outside the Committee building, or "Mission Control", as the techies had dubbed it, he spied the island's state of the art training facilities; over three dozen practice stadiums, each one fully equipped with its own interchangeable field system. Although they were by no means eye candy on the outside, the Committee had been unanimously impressed with both the visual and practical aspects of the system.

_It's very fortunate that the technicians were able to install the tag battle fields, _Samsara told himself, remembering the last-minute change the Committee had been forced to make. Shrugging nonchalantly, he strode down the wide stairs and tucked his hands into his pockets to keep the salty breeze from ripping his jacket from his shoulders. Halfway down, an odd buzzing noise erupted from inside his jacket pocket.

Sighing, Samsara extracted his cellphone and flipped it open. His face creased into a frown as he saw the caller ID, but it twitched back into a smile as a realisation occurred. _Twice in one day? _he chuckled to himself, holding the phone to his ear. "My sincerest apologies, but I'm quite busy at this point in t—"

"—busy my ass," snapped a woman's voice, as cold as ice.

Samsara smirked inwardly and cast his eyes westward again, his gaze sweeping across the stadiums. "I take it your other business went as planned, considering you've already returned here?" he asked politely.

"Take a wild guess," she muttered sarcastically. "I'm only calling for an update."

"There has been little change in our present situation," Samsara responded, now moving down the stairs. "Things are proceeding without a hitch, and so far there hasn't been cause to expect a significant delay to the commencement of the tournament."

"I'm referring to—"

"I'm aware of what you're referring to," he interrupted curtly.

"Then try showing it next time," she seethed. Samsara waited for the impending question. "Has the PLC made any progress tracking down the source of the tip-off?" she asked, confirming Samsara's premonition.

"Everyone here has their suspicions as to where, or _who_, it originated from," he replied, the frown returning to his face as he crossed under a streetlight and turned onto the pavement, heading in the opposite direction to the practice stadiums.

"No doubt they haven't got a clue as to who it _really _was," the woman muttered poisonously.

"Yes, that seems to be the case."

"Does anyone suspect it was us?" she asked.

"No," he said after a long pause. "And they have no reason to, either," he added, his eyes flashing right briefly and wandering over a thick group of trees. "Everyone is presently of the opinion that Team Rocket is behind it."

"Of course they are," she hissed in bitterness. "Why would they _ever_ suspect—?"

"Quiet!" Samsara growled warningly, all traces of charm dispelled with the utterance. "Although it's highly doubtful that this call has been intercepted, I would be extremely surprised if there wasn't _someone_ eavesdropping on our methods of communication," he continued calmly.

"And they're gonna come up with squat, because they're not intelligent enough to know what's _really _going on," retorted his contact. Samsara sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Regardless of outside circumstances, patience is going to become necessary in the near future," he said wisely. "People will be here, and they will be watching. They may not be watching for the _correct_ thing—" he added quickly, a short breath from the other line informing him that she was about to say something, "but they will be there nonetheless."

"I know that," she said stubbornly, and Samsara could imagine her crossing her arms on the other end of the line.

"We are simply going to have to act, and think, smarter than the other party," he concluded.

"You don't have to worry about that," she growled menacingly.

"Obviously. Now, is there anything else you need information pertaining to?" he asked, ignoring, or perhaps just oblivious to, the pair of dull yellow eyes studying him from within the lush grove on his right.

"When are the boats due in?"

"Around noon tomorrow, assuming the oceans provide no difficulties," he told her, knowing that the conversation would soon be over; matters that didn't concern _her_ were usually left until the very end of their calls. Admittedly, Samsara had initially found that particular habit of hers quite frustrating, but after being filled in on the specifics of her plan, he'd been, after the initial shock, impressed by what she was organising, and had decided that one annoying idiosyncrasy was insignificant compared to playing a part.

"Then everything's proceeding without a hitch, just like you said," she conceded. After a brief, and oddly stony, silence, she spoke again. "Make sure to keep an eye on what's going on behind the scenes, and I'll contact you again tomorrow," she instructed.

"Goodnight, Remille," he said succinctly, ending the phone call and dropping his cellphone back into his jacket pocket.

* * *

><p>Standing on the uppermost rim of Stadium 30, the woman known as Remille lowered her Zoom Lens and stowed it in her cloak alongside her cellphone. Although what she'd just heard from Samsara wasn't exactly news to her, it was still nagging at the back of her mind.<p>

_It's good that they're not accusing us of planning it, _she thought, tapping her fingers against the guard rail lining the edge of the roof.

A glint in the distance jolted Remille out of her thoughts, her ice-blue eyes snapping downwards to the entrance of the Committee's main building. Even in the half-light being cast over the steps by the streetlights, she could make out a shape moving down the white stairs, but even her eyesight lacked the acuity to distinguish the shape. Whipping the Zoom Lens out of her coat and throwing it back over her eyes, she was able to get an in-focus view of the figure; a high forehead, thinning black hair and a pair of dark sunglasses.

_Michaels…_ Remille identified with a frown.

Her free hand flying to her belt, she ripped a moss-green Pokéball from her waist and opened it behind her. Unlike most conventional Pokéballs, this one opened without a flash, instead a swirling vortex of darkness bursting forth as a dark shape materialised. She'd specially caught the Pokémon in a Dusk Ball because the flash caused by opening a normal Pokéball wasn't suited to stealth operations.

Remille was still focused on the moving secretary as she addressed her Pokémon. "I want you to tail Michaels. You're to follow him and make sure he doesn't snoop around Samsara too much," she informed the Pokémon. Its pitiless eyes narrowed as it disappeared into the ground, opting to move through shadows to accomplish its task. Within seconds, Remille could see the flitting shape of her Pokémon's shadow as it wove across the pavement towards Michaels.

_And now we wait…_ she told herself, swapping her Zoom Lens for her sunglasses and snapping her fingers. A Pokémon materialised out of thin air next to her, accompanied by a swirl of cold wind which whipped at Remille's cloak. _Let's go_. The Pokémon rested a hand on Remille's back, before they vanished in another cold swirl.

* * *

><p><em>Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~<em>


	6. Umbra I

**CHAPTER 5 – UMBRA I**

It was times like this that made Charles Goodshow wish he could be president of the PLC forever. Standing in his vast office in one of the skyscrapers at the island's back, with the tournament staff all gathered before him, he felt a swelling sense of pride in the team he'd assembled for the arduous task of organising the Summit Conference. The sun had sunk below the horizon long before he'd called for the meeting, the cavernous room lit by the grand chandelier dangling from the ceiling. As usual, a velvet carpet stretched across the floor from end to end underfoot his guests, reinforcing Goodshow's specific decorative taste.

"But the hardest part begins tomorrow!" Goodshow chuckled spritely, in high spirits after the day's schedule's seamless completion. His associates exchanged numerous glances between themselves, some apprehensive, some excited, but most importantly, none were nervous about the rest of the tournament. And that gave Goodshow an enormous amount of confidence.

He spent the next five minutes asking for last-minute updates from select staff members, pointing and addressing each one in turn like an orchestra conductor, and he was practically bouncing on his heels when he heard that the ranking software for the fourth round had been completed ahead of time.

"Really, I cannot thank you all enough for all the hard work you've put in," he beamed, drawing a series of embarrassed blushes from most of them, "but hopefully this'll make you forget about that," he winked, clapping his hands twice as a confused whisper ran through the crowd.

As though the room was hardwired like a clap-lamp, the overhead chandelier dimmed, throwing the room into a half-light. The office's double doors swung gracefully open, and four impeccably dressed waiters entered the room, each one pushing a metal trolley loaded with gift baskets, wine, champagne and drinking glasses. Upon a second signal from Goodshow, the waiters bowed to their host and his guests and exited the room, politely closing the doors behind them to a smattering of modest applause.

"I guess you're not so old-fashioned after all," toasted Samsara, having just plucked a glass from one of the trolleys. His fellows joined him in the formality, snatching glasses off the polished metal as Samsara continued. "To Charles Goodshow, for being the brains, backbone, _and_ brawn—" a chorus of hearty laughter rang out across the room, "of the Pokémon League Committee for more than thirty years, and for giving us all the chance to share in his dream," he said, raising his glass.

"Hear hear!" responded the crowd, clinking glasses amongst each other.

"Thank you very much, but you deserve a toast more than I do, Samsara," Goodshow conceded, taking a glass of his own.

"To Sammy!" declared an exuberant voice, triggering another outbreak of laughter and clinking.

"You flatter me," Samsara said, holding a gloved hand up. But he was smiling as broadly as the people around him as the celebrations began. "Just no one get too drunk," he cautioned, taking the responsibility of passing out the drinks. The crowd surged inwards, each one eager to locate their gift basket and claim it, and also to fill their glasses with some of the most expensive wine the PLC had to offer.

"I'll pass," muttered Michaels as Samsara offered him a tall glass of champagne, forcing a smile and heading to the back of the room. Concerned, Goodshow followed him, absent-mindedly shaking hands with those who offered theirs on his way.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked the sunglasses-clad man.

"I'm fine, thanks, Charles. I just don't drink anymore," Michaels responded thickly.

Goodshow nodded in understanding. Michaels had lost his wife three years ago in a hit-and-run car accident in which the driver's blood-alcohol reading had been more than six times the legal limit. The horrific accident had been heavily televised, and Michaels, for the only time Goodshow, or anyone, could recall, looked to be on the horizon of complete, life-consuming despair. His passion for both life and work evaporated instantly; he didn't even have the heart to turn up for duty, and was promptly dismissed with paid leave, his position vacated in case of a return to duty.

His misery was only compounded by the news that the drunken driver had escaped capture by the local police enforcement groups. When Goodshow heard that the driver, not even two weeks after killing Michaels' wife, had mowed down another innocent civilian, he thought it would be the final nail in Michaels' coffin. He sought to keep the information from him at all costs. However, Michaels had learnt of the second accident. Not by the media, but by the family of the second victim.

Everyone was surprised by what the meeting had produced. Instead of pushing Michaels beyond the edge of psychological help with their grief, the family had shown him the light. They were incredibly upset with the loss of their loved one, just like Michaels, but they refused to let the loss consume them. They told Michaels what it meant to push beyond the pain and live again. They showed him that life could go on. And eventually, almost painstakingly, Michaels began to agree with them. With help from Goodshow, the PLC, his cohorts and the other family, Michaels finally recovered, a long sixteen months after his wife's death.

And he had been transformed. Not only physically – he'd lost a substantial amount of weight and hair during his depression – but mentally as well. He'd gone from the PLC's happy-go-lucky amateur International Police liaison, to a withered shell on the brink of destruction, to a man who saw beyond the complexities of life, and instead focused on the one thing that drove him; his job. He became devoted to his work, solving criminal cases with what his colleagues later called _white logic_, a system Michaels seemed to hold as his number one rule. His motto became "use whatever means necessary to accomplish the task at hand, but under no circumstances take the life of another human being."

Goodshow was astounded at how spiritually stable the man was. He was eternally calm, never flustered when things got out of hand. And yet he'd absorbed the Police's code of being strict on mistakes by his subordinates. Nowadays, Michaels was a man who accepted no failures. He was a rock amongst Police ranks, and had accordingly been promoted several times over the last year, breaking records left, right and centre in the process.

He was also a rock for the PLC, and that was why Goodshow, and indeed, everyone who knew him, respected the man so much. Months ago, Michaels' utter dedication to putting the Summit Conference together was the only thing keeping it going. Even its supporters were voicing significant doubts about how to organise it. It had been inspiring to see him marshal the few supporters left in the PLC and come up with the presentation that had ultimately sold the idea.

Snapping out of his train of thought with another handshake with a staff member, Goodshow turned back to Michaels, suddenly feeling the late hour upon him. He double-checked his watch to make sure his body clock wasn't acting up again, relieved to see the hands indicating a sliver past ten p.m.

"Try to get a good night's sleep, sir." Goodshow's head shot up in surprise at Michaels' words. "You only glance at your watch if you're busy or if you're tired," Michaels' explained knowingly, a small smile playing on his lips. Goodshow could swear Michaels was winking at him from behind his shades, too, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound muffled by his flowing white beard.

"Always the keen observer, you were…" he commented.

"I still am, so it seems," Michaels said. Goodshow smiled warmly at his secretary. "Before you go, sir, there's something I need to discuss with you," he added.

"Go on, then," replied Goodshow, taking a sip of champagne.

Michaels shifted uncomfortably and straightened his tie. "In private," he clarified, nodding his head at the crowded room and staring Goodshow dead in the eye.

"Oh…" Goodshow muttered, understanding exactly why Michaels wanted privacy. It had something to do with a recent assignment of Michaels' from the International Police concerning the Conference. Reluctantly setting his champagne glass down on a mahogany table near the double doors, he called for attention. "I'm terribly sorry to have to leave you all unsupervised," he said, hiding a grin beneath his beard, "but I must be on my way. Try not to stay up too late in my absence."

"No need for concern," Samsara said, graciously opening a door for the PLC president. "We've all got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, too." He motioned a hand under the door's archway, out into the high-ceiling hallway beyond.

Goodshow thanked Samsara for his hospitality, even though he himself had organised the small show, and shuffled into the hallway. Michaels followed close behind, but paused at the frame, his brown eyes flicking upwards over the rim of his sunglasses and locking onto Samsara's. There was something in the taller man's eyes that made Michaels uncomfortable. He couldn't quite put his finger on _what_, though. It was as if Samsara was hiding something from him. The man was almost leering, mistrust seeming to emanate from him like energy…

"Jeremy?" said Goodshow's voice, almost distant from behind the oak doors. Michaels broke the stare-down, quickly exiting the room. He could feel Samsara's eyes on the back of his neck as he left, the sensation disappearing alongside the chattering voices inside as Samsara close the door behind him. From the corners of his eyes, Michaels could see two of his International Police agents standing guard outside the doors, each one dressed in a formal tuxedo. Unlike Michaels, neither had opted for sunglasses.

Michaels turned to his PLC superior. "Sir, as you're no doubt aware—" he began in a serious tone, but Goodshow held up a hand to silence him.

"—Jeremy, we've been over this," he groaned, obviously uncomfortable with the topic and keen to resolve it as quickly as possible. "You've arranged for the extra security, yes?" he asked, almost as if the idea were an afterthought.

"Yes, sir, but—"

"—then stop worrying," Goodshow advised sternly. Michaels took the hint and promptly shut his mouth. "I trust you to handle this," he said, putting a wrinkled hand on Michaels' shoulder and staring him in the eyes. The gaze was locked firm for several seconds, until Michaels broke the deadlock.

"I understand," were his words.

"Good," said Goodshow, effectively ending the conversation. "Go back to the celebrations," he dismissed, already heading off down the ornately furnished hallway. The moment Goodshow disappeared around the corner, Michaels turned to one of his agents; a heavyset man with a black buzz-cut and a square jaw.

Employing the sign language taught to every officer upon acceptance into the organisation, Michaels waved a hand down his own face, then pointed a thumb over his shoulder, down the vacant hall Goodshow had just departed down. The agent nodded and jerked his wrist, dropping a PokéBall out of his sleeve and into his open palm before stalking off after Goodshow.

As the highest ranked agent of the International Police currently stationed at the Battleground, Michaels was essentially top dog when it came to law enforcement, and as such had control over their presence. Normally he never needed to flex his power in public, but when an anonymous tip-off had alerted the International Police to a potential security threat, Michaels had broken silence. He'd requested a crack team of elite forces to be sent to the Battleground to help him protect the PLC and the competing trainers. His superiors hadn't disappointed.

Feeling a soft vibration on his upper chest, Michaels signalled to the remaining agent to return to his duties. As the guard snapped back to attention and resumed his task as sentry, Michaels strode off, heading in the opposite direction to Goodshow and his new escort as he withdrew a cellphone from his jacket. After confirming the decrypted caller ID, he waited for the phone to buzz six times before raising it to his ear.

"Yes?"

* * *

><p>"Yes?" said Jeremy Michaels, his voice crackly due to the phone's encryption software. The man who'd placed the phone call waited in silence for a moment, feeling the late night wind rush around. He didn't mind the chilly draft one bit though, having spent much of the previous two years in at-times snowy weather. Not that he'd dressed lightly, either. Although an ocean-blue shirt was stretched across his muscular chest, he'd compensated for the cold wind with a knee-length greatcoat which was presently half-buttoned over his faded, denim jeans.<p>

"Russ here," the man said. His full name was Russell Carter, but he much preferred the moniker of Russ amongst his friends. To his colleagues, on the other hand, he was known as Agent Carter, Captain of the International Police's Special Operations Taskforce. He was a man twenty-six years of age, and the youngest SOT captain in history. Depending on whom one asked, he was also the most brilliant. Described by his contractors as an eternal cynic with an eye for detail and danger, Russ had excelled in his duties ever since joining the Police a week after his twentieth birthday. His tactical expertise had been the main factor behind his rapid promotion, something he'd apparently developed en route to two Pokémon League championships in his youth.

"I was expecting an update sooner or later," Michaels drawled, Russ' trademark smirk bursting onto his face as his midnight-blue bangs waved about in the breeze. The rest of his neck-length hair was spared the treatment, being tied back into a spiked ponytail behind his head.

"This'd be sooner, now wouldn't it?" he asked in jest, watching from his vantage point atop a restaurant roof as the island's main recreational street closed down for the night. As his yellow eyes took in the sight of the lights around him dying one by one, he decided to cut to the chase. "Just as we suspected, someone unwelcome's been keeping a _very _close eye on proceedings here," he told his immediate superior.

"So you have definite confirmation?" asked Michaels. Russ could tell he was curious as to how he'd ascertained this.

"We ran a few experiments," he said, teasing Michaels with the sound-bite. "I won't bore you with the exact details, but we were able to locate background static noises which are typical of radio-wave interceptors," he explained. "Judging by the times the listening devices are active, they're listening to _us_, rather than the trainers or PLC members."

Russ didn't hear anything on the other line for several long seconds. Michaels was obviously taking his time considering the scenario. The tip-off had become rather personal for him a couple of days ago after someone had tried to hack into his computer. It made sense that the unknown party had attempted to access his computer, though. As head of the enforcement team stationed at the Battleground, anyone with access to his computer would know almost everything that was happening on the island. The hypothetical was only compounded by Michaels' office within the PLC.

"Any idea what they're listening _for_?" he asked.

"Haven't got a clue as of yet," Russ replied. "The background static hasn't stopped since we arrived."

"They must still be trying to crack our encryption."

"Actually, I have reason to believe they've cracked our encryption software," Russ said, evidently hesitant to share this information with his boss.

His reasons for hesitating instantly became obvious. "And when were you planning on telling me of this?" Michaels asked, a trace amount of venom in his words.

"I was informed of this a few minutes ago," Russ countered. In truth, the revelation was the reason Russ had called Michaels in the first place. He'd just been waiting for the right time to bring it up. "I asked them to run a search on recent attempts to access our satellites. Turns out a there's a perfect three-minute hole in the satellite's server records."

Michaels went silent again, no doubt mulling over this newest piece of information. Russ had barely had time to think about it himself, let alone contemplate the potential ramifications. What he could easily deduce was that a Police agent had accessed the satellite's channels, since the only way to access it was via a cipher-code; those codes were only given to high-ranking agents. Even hacking was powerless to break in.

"Well it can't be the corruption watch squad. They'd have no need to cover it up," he commented offhandedly.

"Not to mention I would've been notified if there was an inquiry of any kind," Michaels added, still deep in thought. "Why would an agent need to cover their tracks?" he asked Russ suddenly, trying to put the pieces together.

"To keep anyone else from finding out they'd accessed information," he replied simply.

"But which one of our agents would need to hide themselves?" pondered Michaels aloud. "All the agents who were given cipher-codes are allowed round-the-clock access to even our most restricted files. It would be pointless to erase three minutes of records. Not to mention a new code hasn't been given out for at least two months."

"If memory serves me correctly, sir, _I _was the last one to receive a code, back when I was promoted to captain of the SOT," Russ interjected jokingly. It had been in unfortunate circumstances that he'd received it, too. The previous captain had been accused and found guilty of conspiracy to commit treason, stripped of her rank, and thrown into a maximum security prison. Barely a day later, however, she escaped, burning the prison to the ground in the process.

Russ' very first assignment as captain of the Special Operations Taskforce had been to track down and capture her, but as a former captain herself, she knew every trick in the book, and had eluded him. Ever since that day, he'd been heading the investigation to bring her back in. His entire stint thus far as Taskforce captain had been devoted to the chase in eastern Sinnoh.

But with the tip-off last week, his superiors had pulled the plug on his activities there, reassigning him to security detail at the Battleground. It made little difference to his progress; the trail had gone cold weeks earlier. To date, her escape was the only blemish on Russ' otherwise spotless record with the International Police.

"What did you say?" Michaels asked. His voice was very quiet.

"I said I was the last one to receive a code, after our last captain was arrested," he repeated as an odd ringing permeated his hearing. "But I doubt—"

An explosion of static cut him off and pounded against his eardrum, forcing him to yank the phone to arm's reach. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled, wincing as a second ringing burst into his ear. _That noise! _He recognised the first ringing he'd heard as the precursor to what the International Police called a "static bomb". It was a device which, when detonated, flooded an area with random noises across a range of frequencies, effectively destroying conversations.

"Sir!" he bellowed into the phone, not daring to bring it closer. All he received in response to his cry was another screaming torrent of static. Knowing whoever set off the static bomb had to be nearby, Russ whirled around, his free hand already flying towards the PokéBalls at his waist.

_BANG!_

He'd barely moved an inch before a silver blur raced past his face at sonic speed, followed swiftly by a crash of wind that tore at his face. The blur was a bullet that grazed his cheek before it continued straight on, smashing through his phone and hand and burying itself into the café sign across the street. Russ roared in pain as he felt the bullet rip a chunk out of his palm, ignoring the shattered remains of his phone as it fell to the ground amidst a haze of blood.

As his body pumped adrenaline through his body to stifle the sensation, Russ rammed his injured hand into his armpit. Fighting the pain to a standstill as he squeezed down with his arm, he brushed his free hand past his belt and dislodged a PokéBall from the fabric. He blocked out the white-hot flash of pain that mirrored the one his PokéBall let out, and ran forwards as his faithful Garchomp materialised in front of him.

Giving in to the fight or flight reaction that governed everyone in these moments, Russ opted for flight, his eyes screwed shut against the searing pain in what remained of his hand.

He dived forwards as a second shot rang out across the night sky, dodging it by mere inches. He landed heavily on the stone roof, barely feeling his shoulder jar on impact or the flare that ran through his torn hand. "Garchomp, cover me!" he screamed, knowing he couldn't get back on his feet in time. As heartless as it seemed at first, using Garchomp as a shield was his best chance of survival. Both trainer and Pokémon knew that it would take a lot more than a bullet to pierce Garchomp's steel-hard exterior.

Above him, his Garchomp gave an outraged bellow and dived over him, taking its trainer's order literally. It flattened itself over Russ, quickly arranging its body to protect his vital organs. Russ' mind was working furiously on his plan, having already calculated the time delay between each shot. Even as a rough estimate, five seconds wasn't enough time. _Gotta survive this next shot, _he grimaced as he figured out his escape plan.

_BANG!_

A third bullet snuck through the gap between Garchomp's wing and side, burying itself in Russ' unprotected left arm. Russ didn't even pay heed to the new injury as his blood seeped out onto the roof; it meant the shooter had to reload. He had a chance to escape. He couldn't escape earlier, but now he was in direct contact with his Garchomp. And Garchomp were renowned for flying at the speed of sound.

Waiting no longer to act, Russ slapped a hand against his Pokémon's flank. It would be suicide to try and take on the sniper, and there was no shame in fleeing from a foe you couldn't even see. Raising a shaking, blood-soaked hand and pointing into the café across the street, he called up to Garchomp. "In there!" he ordered, knowing time was short.

In the spare second they had, Garchomp scooped its battered trainer into its clawed wings as its legs tensed for the escape. As if the Mach Pokémon could smell the igniting black powder, it leapt off the roof right as the sniper's fourth shot was fired. The bullet ricocheted off the roof this time, slamming into Garchomp's leg and bouncing harmlessly off the steel-hard scales as the Dragon-type banked tightly, aiming for the café's windows.

With Russ held tight against its front, Garchomp rocketed through the glass as if it weren't even there. They ploughed into the rear wall amidst a storm of furniture and broken china before the glass fragments had even begun to give into gravity's merciless embrace. The fragments shattering against the hard concrete outside didn't register to Russ or his Garchomp amidst the settling chaos around them.

"Is it… over…?" he breathed, only now beginning to feel the pain. Through the haze of debris clouding his narrowed vision, Russ could just make out the shape of a spent bullet tumbling to the ground outside. His vision began to fade to black, but he fought against the creeping darkness, vowing to himself to retain consciousness.

He needed to alert Michaels, and he'd be of no use to anyone unconscious. He took a long, deep breath, inching a bloody hand towards his belt as slowly as he dared. Through the narrowest gap between his eyelids, he kept watch on the pavement outside. His Garchomp's torpedo-framed head was denying him a line of sight to anywhere else, but most importantly it was keeping the sniper from lining up his head in the crosshairs. He calmly reminded himself to reward Garchomp for its large ears once they were safe.

The pain continued to ascend, beginning to reach almost intolerable levels. But he drove it back with all of his remaining willpower as his fingers closed around a second PokéBall. It was warm, and he thanked his lucky stars he'd found the right one first. Especially since a red dot was slithering up towards the two of them.

"Garchomp…" he murmured through gritted teeth, the Mach Pokémon's yellow eyes swivelling down to meet his. He stared deep into his Pokémon's eyes, willing it to understand what was required. His Garchomp had been through a lot with him, though, and twitched its nose affirmatively. "Good boy." He carefully unhooked the PokéBall from his belt, ignoring the fresh layer of blood coating the metallic surface. He had a reputation for never panicking under pressure, and he'd be damned if he stopped now on account of a few ounces of lost blood.

"Smokescreen," Russ smirked, dropping the orb onto the ground where it split open in a brilliant flash of white. Even before the flash was gone, the stout shape of his Torkoal stomped onto the wreckage, spewing a thick cloud of smoke from its nostrils, mouth and shell. An explosion sounded overhead as Garchomp used its Dragon Rage to rend a hole in the back wall, the subsiding heat followed swiftly by the clanging sound of metal-on-metal raging against his ears. Russ clamped his hand over Torkoal's PokéBall, recalling the Coal Pokémon just as Garchomp redoubled its grip on him and rocketed through the still-smoking hole.

Russ could feel his body leaning this way and that as Garchomp wove between the deserted streets at top speed, intent on getting as far away from the café as possible. He inhaled deeply, feeling the clean night air as it rushed into his lungs and displaced Torkoal's Smokescreen, revitalising his battered body.

"Take me to the hospital, Garchomp," he said weakly, but the smirk never left his face as his Mach Pokémon changed course. Even the sight of his mangled left arm couldn't remove it.

* * *

><p><em>Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~<em>


	7. Rainbow Howitzer

**CHAPTER 6 – RAINBOW HOWITZER**

"Trainers, guests, and fans across the world, on behalf of the Pokémon League Committee, welcome to the Crown Battleground for the inaugural Summit Conference!"

The woman's voice was amplified a hundred-fold over the stadium's extensive PA network as a salvo of fireworks exploded high above her. Her words were met with an approving wall of sound from the stands, thousands upon thousands of fans dressed in every colour under the sun screaming in delight. Even through her thick glasses, she could barely focus her eyes on the stand's front few rows, they were so far away. Then again, the opening ceremony _was _taking place at the Battleground's largest stadium – Stadium 2. Why they'd called it that was a mystery to her, but honestly, she didn't really care. She wasn't getting paid for knowing the reason behind the colosseum's name.

"Allow me to welcome to the stand the president of the Pokémon League Committee. Please put your hands together for Mr. Charles Goodshow!" she announced, moving to the side of the vast stage in the stadium's centre. _There's my month's pay-check done and dusted, _she thought, smiling politely, as per her job, as Goodshow took up the microphone to a chorus of cheers and applause. Being much shorter than the woman, he took a few seconds to lower the microphone stand down to a level he could speak into. The tactical delay also gave the noise a brief window with which to decrease.

"Thank you all very much for coming," Goodshow said warmly, raising a hand in appreciation of the huge crowd. "I consider it a privilege to be standing before you all on this momentous day, to officially announce the commencement of the first ever Summit Conference!" The crowd swelled with noise and whistled their delight, and Goodshow held back a chuckle as he spied a Mexican wave out of the corner of his eye. The gesture had always been a personal favourite of his, so much so that he'd vetoed an effort to ban its use at arranged tournaments.

"Of course, were it not for the dedicated staff of the Pokémon League Committee, I wouldn't be here to show off my dream to you all. So please give them all a big round of applause for working so tirelessly to put this all together," he requested politely, joining in with the tens of thousands of spectators in congratulating his co-workers.

He turned his head towards the stage's rear, purposely casting his attention towards his lone attending secretary – Samsara was occupied by a call from his family. Modest as always, Michaels had simply raised a hand in recognition of the praise. To Goodshow's amusement, Michaels seemed somewhat embarrassed by the crowd's reaction. His head was ever so slightly bowed, and the faintest trace of a blush decorated his cheeks.

_It's a shame Samsara couldn't be here for this… _thought Goodshow, turning back to the microphone as the applause died down. "Now, I wouldn't be much of a gracious host if I didn't ask you all to join me in thanking our many sponsors for this event. First and foremost, our primary sponsor in the Devon Corporation, whose investments and inventions went a long way towards outfitting all our facilities with the latest in Pokémon trainer technology."

Goodshow took a step back, freeing the microphone up for a tall man with silvery hair standing next to Michaels. He was, of course, Steven Stone, the former Hoenn region Champion. With a curt nod towards the older man, Steven took up the stand. Goodshow could barely hear himself think over the explosion of noise that followed from the crowd. Steven had always been a favourite of trainers from all over the world, but nowhere more so than his home region here in Hoenn. The stylish, purple-striped suit which he was – as always – dressed in had become a pop icon over the years.

Smiling inwardly at the beaming faces of his many fans in the crowd, he picked up the microphone stand. "Props for the plug, Charles," he smiled, drawing a jubilant chorus of laughter from the packed stadium before he addressed the spectators themselves.

"On behalf of my father who couldn't be here today, allow me to thank you all for your involvement in the Summit Conference, and for your support of the Devon Corporation. I'm convinced that without your continued support, this Conference wouldn't be up and running today, and neither would my father's company. As Devon's acting vice-president, I would also like to publicly assure you that Devon will continue to devote its time, money and influence towards building a brighter future, for people and Pokémon alike, for many more years to come. Thank you," Steven concluded, stepping back to thunderous applause.

"Well said, well said," Goodshow cheered, quietly grateful that Steven hadn't readjusted the microphone as he took it back. People these days had unfortunately short attention spans, and a couple of selfish tendencies such as the one with the stand had been subtly playing on his patience over the last few years.

As Goodshow resumed reciting the list of sponsors, allowing each representative a few words of their own, Steven heaved a sigh. Despite his high-ranking position at the Devon Corporation – something no doubt on account of his father's interference than anything else – he was uncomfortable, for lack of a better word, with his current assignment as a representative. He felt that his father was using his public adoration as a tool to promote his company, something he had passionately argued to the man. Alas, his father had guilt-tripped him into doing him a "small favour".

"Problems at home?" Michaels asked quietly, keeping his eyes trained on Goodshow.

Steven didn't flinch. "I hate it when you do that…" he muttered, irritated by the man's intuition. It was as if he knew how to read minds.

"I'll take that a yes."

"—please welcome to the field, the first of the two-hundred and fifty-six trainers competing in the Summit Conference, from Pewter City, Pete Pebbleman!" announced one of the many aides dotting the stage, his voice incredibly suave. As expected, he was dressed in a tailored tuxedo for the event, and his black hair had been styled in an old-fashioned bowl cut.

_Already up to the trainer introductions? _Steven mused, unfolding his arms and clapping along with the crowd, who had just gone wild with the arrival of a trainer. An average-sized man with untidy black hair and large eyes trudged out from one of the four trainer tunnels lining the field boundary, waving emphatically as he took his place in front of the stage.

* * *

><p>Ash watched as Pete walked out onto the enormous field, enthusiastically applauding his one-time League opponent. The numerous other trainers milling around in the tunnel shot him odd looks, prompting a quick desist. Although the battle had been more than four years ago, Ash still remembered it as clear as day. Especially Pete's Arcanine, which had nearly knocked him out of the Indigo League.<p>

When he'd seen Pete lining up for an introduction earlier, he'd instinctively searched the room for another of his Indigo League rivals; Richie. To his – and Pikachu's – disappointment, the boy hadn't been there, nor had his Pikachu, Sparky. In fact, aside from Pete, Ash only recognised one other trainer in the room, despite them all supposedly being from Kanto. That person was Gary, who was standing behind him and looking extremely bored. His attitude puzzled Ash. There was palpable anxiety in the air, which only seemed to magnify within the tunnel's plaster confines, and yet he was completely oblivious to it.

Indeed, Gary had been the only familiar face Ash had encountered since his arrival at the Battleground, not long after sunrise. He'd been far too distracted by the island's splendour to go walkabout in search of previous acquaintances, and was swept up in the tide of trainers as they all rushed to Stadium 2 for the opening ceremony. Even as they'd all been directed into their respective trainer tunnels, Ash was as wise as a Rhyhorn as to whom else was competing, or at the island.

With nothing constructive to do until his name was called out, Ash tuned his ears to the speaker in the back of the tunnel. Gary was doing the same, it seemed, for his expression twitched as a name floated over his head. Oblivious to his friend, Ash waited until he heard the name of someone he knew.

Ten minutes passed without so much as a familiar name. The room was now much less crowded, with almost half of the trainers occupying the tunnel having been called out to the field. Ash had taken to sitting cross-legged on the floor, drumming his fingers against the dusty carpet to pass the time as he blocked out all noise bar the speaker. Pikachu was still perched on his shoulder, but he looked ready to sleep, eyes half-closed and an empty expression on his face.

"_Pii… ka…_" murmured the Mouse Pokémon, settling in against his trainer's hat.

"—_Harrison James, from Littleroot Town!"_ droned the speaker, making Ash's head bolt upright. Pikachu started in surprise, Thunderbolt at the ready, but Ash patted a hand on his head to soothe him. The Pallet native craned his head past the line of trainers blocking the exit, but the light contrast beyond the tunnel made seeing outside nigh impossible. Springing to his feet, he darted to the field entrance, throwing a hand up to shade his eyes from the harsh glare, Pikachu burying his head against Ash's head to block out the light.

Sure enough, Harrison's tall figure and short brown hair could be seen strutting out to the stage, waving both hands high in the air. He was barely halfway across the field before the speaker churned out another easily recognisable name.

"_Gary Oak, from Pallet Town!"_

"Make way, coming through," said Gary as his spiky hair bobbed closer. His name was greeted with a roaring chorus of cheers, and he gave Ash a casual thumbs-up as he walked past. Ash mirrored the gesture, Gary's trademark sneer flashing across his face before he passed under the tunnel archway and out onto the field. He immediately shielded his face from the sun's wrath, his watch catching the sunlight and bouncing it past Ash's empty shoulder. A muttered curse from the depths of the dark room gave Gary his second exit cue, and he jogged out, taking his place amongst the two-hundred-odd trainers dotting the grassy field.

By now, the crowd's rallying chants had become so loud that Ash was having difficulty hearing the loudspeakers. He tore his eyes away from the field, effectively ignoring the next trainer to walk out – a teenage girl with blue hair who looked untroubled by the hot weather striding out from the tunnel directly across. Revelling in the relative cool inside his own tunnel, he retreated to the back, all the better to be closer to the speaker. He'd prefer to not miss his name and become the laughing stock of the tournament before it even began. The remaining trainers had adopted a similar strategy, but thankfully they weren't talking loudly enough to drown the speaker out.

"Ah, I _thought_ the regional champions were competing…" commented a broad-shouldered man with a black goatee, in response to a name that had just been called out. Ash's eyebrows flew up when he saw the expensive night-blue suit the man had donned for the ceremony. Atop his shoulder, Pikachu paid no attention, presently slumped against Ash's neck.

"Dumbass," snarled someone behind the man, drawing his attention. Frowning at the language, Ash tilted his head to the side, surprised when he found the voice belonged to a particularly short girl whose hairstyle reminded him of an Exeggutor. In addition to her light skin she was also incredibly thin, evidenced by how tightly her red jacket had to be fastened around her waist.

"Mind your tongue, little girl," the goateed man hissed. He glared down his nose at the girl with grey eyes, hoping to provoke a reaction.

"Don't you talk down to me, dickhead!" she snapped, baring her teeth in contempt at the man's condescension. Ash hastily took a step backwards as her hands formed fists at her sides.

"But you're too short for me _not _to," chortled the man, his words filled with utmost derision. The girl quickly registered his tone, and her fist was halfway towards delivering a painful uppercut to the man's groin before it was shrouded in a blue aura. The limb froze in mid-air inches from his expensive blue suit. The tunnel's only other occupant – Ash aside – walked out onto the field, ignoring the scuffle.

The girl's expression changed from shock to rage in a fraction of a second. "You fu—!" she screamed, but her words were cut off as the blue light spread to cover her body, forcibly clamping her mouth shut and contorting it into a wide smile. Her eyes remained open, however, and the man lowered his face to hers, evidently drawing his own sick pleasure from the scene as the girl struggled against her bonds.

"My my, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he gasped, feigning concern. "Oh, how silly of me… That's my job, now isn't it?"

Although she couldn't speak, her eyes continued to burn into his, pure hatred radiating out like the aura that was holding her still. Ash moved to tell the man off for his behaviour, but he spotted Ash out of the corner of his eye. Before Ash had completed a single step, the same blue aura had wrapped around his own body, paralysing him.

_What the heck…? Is this a Psychic attack? _Ash yelled, his voice strangled under the constrictive effect. With his eyes being the only part of his body he had conscious control over, he glanced down, relieved to see that Pikachu wasn't in distress from the attack. To his surprise, Pikachu looked to be sound asleep.

"Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but alas, I've been summoned," the man said, Ash's gaze locking back onto him. He smiled and raised a finger for silence, though neither Ash nor the girl could break the silence that ensued even if they wanted to.

An announcement from the speaker did the job for them. "_Please welcome Praetar Dierel from Lavender Town!"_

_So that's his name… _thought Ash, making sure to remember it should they meet again. Praetar's smile widened, himself turning on his heel and striding towards the field, leaving Ash and his fellow captive to struggle fruitlessly against the strange power. He tried to cry out, but his mouth refused to obey his mind. He could only watch on, powerless, as Praetar reached the tunnel archway, feeling a burning sensation of anger boil up from deep inside him.

"No, that would be unintelligent…" Praetar said suddenly, stopping at the threshold and half-turning towards them. A sadistic grin reared onto his face, and he snapped his fingers thrice.

The tunnel darkened immediately, the white plaster walls quickly fading to a deathly shade of violet. Ash's eyes darted this way and that, trying to comprehend what was transpiring. His first thought was that it was a Pokémon's doing. But his eyes told him there were no Pokémon in sight except for Pikachu. How was that man doing this? Did he hold some kind of supernatural power?

His confusion was answered a second later as a dark shape slowly drifted out of the wall. It laughed torturously as it emerged, the frayed witch's hat atop its head swaying to and fro.

Its body was the exact same shade of violet as its surroundings, contrasting against its soulless yellow eyes. A line of red stitches formed the spectre's wickedly grinning mouth. Below its macabre face, a row of crimson orbs were affixed around the base of its spindly neck. The rest of its hovering figure was comprised of a long cloak, which rippled fiercely despite the lack of wind. Further enhancing its nightmarish appearance was the shimmering blue fire surrounding it; the same shade of blue as the psychic grip on Ash and the girl.

Ash instantly recognised the shape as a Pokémon, having met a particularly vindictive one in Sinnoh.

It was a Mismagius.

"Come, Mismagius, we don't want to be late!" Praetar cooed, beckoning for his Magical Pokémon to join him. Mismagius ignored him for a second, leering ferociously at the other two, but it reluctantly submitted to its trainer. Ash felt the blood rush back to his legs as Mismagius let down its Psychic, but they gave way and Ash crashed onto the ground. A thump from nearby told him the girl had experienced something similar. After making sure he hadn't landed on Pikachu, he snapped his vision upwards.

All he got was a fleeting image of Praetar recalling his Mismagius before the colour flooded back to the tunnel, temporarily blinding him. The second time he looked up, Praetar was gone, and the sounds of the cheering crowd began echoing down the musty tunnel.

_What the heck was _that _all about? _he thought.

"Asshole!" the girl spat, but her words were strangled by the roaring outside as she broke into a coughing fit. Still a little light-headed after the Psychic, Ash stumbled to his feet, holding a hand against the wall to steady himself. The room spun around him, gravity imploring surrender. He blinked once, twice, and shook his head, and the world righted itself. Pikachu still snoozed peacefully, cradled against Ash's chest by his free arm.

Ash glanced down at the girl, who was still on the ground and tenderly touching her face. He held out a hand to help her up. "He—"

"_Don't touch me!"_ she seethed, knocking his hand away. Ash recoiled, spying a red flush on her face between the green bangs. Another round of applause drifted down the tunnel as she valiantly struggled to her feet, head bowed and legs shaking uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?" Ash asked earnestly, staying at a safe distance and gently trying to wake Pikachu. The Electric-type seemed quite unwilling to be roused.

"I'm fine," she snapped, eyes fixed on the ground as she righted herself. In truth, she looked the opposite of fine, but with a temper like she'd displayed earlier, Ash knew it was unwise to push the issue. Curious silence was the optimal choice.

"_Our third-last trainer, Mimi Saigis from Boon Island!" _crackled the speaker.

"Finally," the girl muttered. She ambled forwards, pushing on the plaster to stay upright in her dizzied state. Employing his usual chivalry, Ash let slide her earlier outburst and put her arm on his shoulder for support.

_WHAM._

Ash found himself lying face-down on the floor once again, a severe aching in his jaw courtesy of a vicious haymaker from Mimi's right fist. Stars were already bursting into his vision by the time he'd located a hand to hold against it. Pikachu twitched into consciousness, having been dropped onto Ash's lap as the latter had fallen over. Managing to distinguish up from down, Ash rolled onto his back, staring incredulously at an enraged Mimi.

"I told you not to fucking touch me," she hissed murderously, already moving towards the field and leaving a dazed Ash in her wake.

"Ugh…" he groaned once she'd disappeared beyond the archway, gingerly nursing his injury. For someone as short as Mimi – almost half a head shorter than Ash – she sure packed one heck of a punch. "Have I done something wrong today, Pikachu?"

"_Piikapi kachu pi pii?"_ Pikachu asked.

"True," Ash replied, pushing himself off the ground. Habitually, he scooped Pikachu up off the carpet, the Mouse Pokémon dashing up to his usual perch. _Man, today's sucked. I tripped over getting off the boat, I got lost on the way to the stadium, and now I've been attacked by a Mismagius and punched out by a girl! Hopefully that's all my bad karma out of the way for the tournament…_

"—_Our final trainer, Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town!" _came the speaker's final announcement before it gave a faint _beep _and turned itself off.

"Well, this is it," Ash sighed, quietly anxious about the reception he was going to get. Pikachu nuzzled his cheek. "Thanks, buddy." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He was about to walk out onto the field that would host the PLC's greatest triumph. Judging by the sound pounding against his eardrums, almost fifty thousand people had turned up to watch it. Right now, they were waiting for him. Once he left the tunnel, he'd be standing amongst the very best trainers in the world. He _was _one of the very best trainers in the world.

And in time, he'd show them all that not only was he _one_ of the best, he was _the_ best.

"Let's go, Pikachu!" he said, flicking his hat backwards and dashing out onto the field with a grin on his face. The early morning sunlight blazed full in his face, but the colossal cheer that assaulted his ears from all angles hit him even harder than Mimi. It was absolutely deafening, stunning him to a stop just outside the archway. He could hear his name being screamed by thousands, people of all ages chanting it to an unknown beat.

Looking around, Ash saw a handful of people, barely metres away, wearing shirts emblazoned with his own face. He laughed merrily at the very thought of it, and waved a joyous hand at his fans. If he thought the noise was incredible before, the handwave made it unbelievable. The volume skyrocketed, making Pikachu cringe closer to Ash's thick hair to dampen the sound. Ash never knew he was this popular, but he drank in every moment of it. The atmosphere was simply euphoric.

Finally managing to tear his eyes from the scores of people cheering him on, he cast his gaze inwards, past the immaculately trimmed grass field and towards the centre stage. All the other trainers were standing in front, waiting for him. There were too many to count. He looked over their heads, seeing Goodshow himself standing at the front of the grand stage. Ash and his friends had met Goodshow a few times before, most notably at the Ever Grande Conference, and Ash nodded in thanks at the old man. He could've sworn he received a nod in return, too.

Pushing the thunderous crowd to the back of his mind, he began the long walk out to the centre. He was silently thankful for being the last trainer introduced. It meant he didn't have to hurry. He could enjoy this sensation for as long as possible. His feet moved of their own accord, their owner paying no attention to them, instead completely fixated on the stadium's interior. By far and large the biggest stadium Ash had ever been to, he figured through the haze in his mind that it could easily hold a hundred-thousand people. One, two, three, four tiers of seating he could count from down on the field, each one overhanging the last and providing maximum visibility for the audience.

But truly, the most magnificent thing Ash could note about the stadium was the _colours_. And not the metallic-blue steel the stadium had been constructed form. The colours the spectators were wearing, as he turned a full revolution, made it feel like he was walking between rainbows. He could almost reach out and touch the twenty-metre tall collage with his bare hands. The image seared itself into his memory, thrusting itself upon Ash like an invaluable treasure he was destined to hold. And he would never forget the image for as long as he lived.

It was as if Ho-Oh itself were present, giving Ash its blessing.

Physically shivering at the prospect of battling here one day, Ash's subconsciously controlled legs guided him to his place amongst the trainers. He was too awestruck to notice who he was standing next to, or even translate the noise of Goodshow talking once more.

"And now, without further ado, I declare the first ever Summit Conference underway!"

* * *

><p><em>As an interesting note, during my first writing of <em>Crown_, I got this far in the story, and was already at my eighteenth chapter. Amazing how much quicker a story flows when you remove all that filler, eh? _

_One thing I'm very interested to receive is an opinion (or ten) on _Crown _as a whole so far. Have you been enjoying the story? Has it moved at a good pace? Do you like my writing style? And so on and so forth. I consider this chapter a 'checkpoint', if you will, in the story's progression, so I feel it's better to ask now before the major arc kicks into gear next chapter._

_Speaking of, Chapter 7 will be released Thursday, December 1st, and will feature a couple of (more) new faces. Well... one of them isn't so new if you're in the know and read around. Hint hint._

_Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	8. Ice Amongst Raindrops

**CHAPTER 7 – ICE AMONGST RAINDROPS**

Despite being the opening day of competition, the pub was crowded as could be. Hundreds had flocked to the watering hole with the conclusion of the opening ceremony, eager to get out of the sun and into the air-conditioning as the outside temperature ascended. Although a few had received their fill or left on account of battles to attend to, since the ceremony's end, the congregation had just seemed to increase in size. A huge plasma television dominated the back wall, entertaining the patrons with one of the first battles of the Conference.

With most eyes around her glued to the TV and the trainers' more diehard supporters placing bets over results, a tall woman with sleek blond hair clinked glasses with the man who'd just shouted her drinks.

Allowing her green eyes a brief downwards glance, she took a long drink from her glass. _Just the way I like it, _she thought, smiling at the man with full lips. He wasn't bad on the eyes; clean-shaven, springy light brown hair and a firm jaw were all ticked boxes, and although he wasn't overtly handsome, his unique brand of humour and sparkling baby-blue eyes were definite winners.

"—Because heaven forbid a model has the brains to match the beauty," he chuckled jovially, the faintest of blushes creeping onto her cheeks as his eyes returned to hers.

"Where did you learn to be so charming?" she asked with a giggle, flicking her elbow-length hair back over her shoulder.

"Comes with the territory, I suppose," he said as the pub burst into fresh jeers over the progression of the TV battle. One of the trainers had ordered a Destiny Bond, but her efforts had been thwarted by a timely Future Sight attack which had both interrupted the move and scored a KO for her opponent – the first of the tournament. "Speaking of, I'm surprised I'm the first one to offer to buy you drinks today. Dressed like that, I'd've thought every boy and his Shinx would be lining up for the privilege." He nodded at her somewhat revealing outfit, consisting of a plain white t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination considering her moderate chest, and a pair of sky-blue hot pants.

"At least I'm not in danger of being boiled alive by it," she smirked, brushing a hand across his vest and lightly tugging on the neck.

"Boiled alive in stylish clothes whilst buying drinks for a beautiful woman… Sounds like a great way to go, I gotta say," he said as he took another sip of his drink, his attention momentarily snared by a pair of rough-looking men engaged in a morning game of darts.

A witty retort was ready at her lips, but the bar's door chose that moment to burst open. Biting back her comment as all eyes but hers ignored the intrusion, she glanced over her friend's shoulder to see a boy in his mid-teens bent double, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. A shock of jet-black hair sprawled outwards from under a blue-and-white baseball cap, and the Pikachu on his shoulder was rapidly fanning its trainer's face with a paw to try and cool his beet-red face.

"Does anyone know… where Stadium 17 is?" he spluttered, but his strained words were lost amongst the boisterous locals as the TV showed the female trainer's prized Pokémon – a Hippowdon – crash onto the field. Taking pity on the exhausted trainer, the woman at the bar walked over to join him, giving her friend an apologetic look as she went.

"Do I at least get a thanks for the drink?" he asked, hurt by her sudden and indifferent departure.

"You already got a lot more than just thanks," she winked, tapping a finger against the top of her t-shirt. His eyes darted down to his own vest, but by the time he saw the tiny slip of paper concealed under the fabric, she and the boy had both disappeared behind the door as it swung shut.

"Thanks so much," the boy said, still with his hands on his knees as he regained his breath. "Sorry to drag you away from there… but I've got a battle in ten minutes and I can't… find the stadium I'm supposed to be at…"

"Don't worry about it, kiddo," she said with a beaming smile, putting a hand on his free shoulder and pulling him away from the middle of the street. People were running this way and that at a frenzied pace, whether they be looking for shops, chasing after stray Pokémon, or hunting down a stadium like her current company. "Call me Strung, by the way," she said suddenly, holding her hand out to the trainer.

"Ash," he smiled, grasping it firmly in a strong handshake. Having regained his breath and sense of direction, he stood up again, though Pikachu continued to use its paws as a makeshift fan. _I'm glad Brock isn't here,_ he thought, finally getting a good look at Strung. She was exceptionally attractive, at least a whole head taller than he was, and with a curvy hourglass figure accentuated by her attire. Of course, being Ash, he didn't focus on any of these for longer than just a cursory glance.

"So which way is it to the stadium?" he asked anxiously. He didn't want to come off as being rude to Strung, having just met her, but on the other hand if he didn't get to the stadium on time, he'd be forced to forfeit the match, and judging by the calibre of trainers he'd seen on his way to the pub, he'd need as good a start as he could get.

"Oh, it's not too far away," she said airily, nodding her head down the street to her left and beckoning for him to follow.

Extremely relieved that something was going his way for once with the tournament, Ash dutifully stepped into line next to her, a half-pace behind as they headed off. The passing of a huge shadow overhead made him jump a bit, but he relaxed when he saw that it was just a Salamence joyriding with its trainer.

"Cute Pikachu," she winked, reaching a hand out to scratch Pikachu between the ears. The Electric-type obliged, a soft noise of contention escaping its mouth as Strung's fingers found a good spot, flashing her a grateful smile that didn't go unnoticed.

Ash smiled inwardly. Maybe he _had _used up all his bad karma tokens earlier in the day. "Yeah, me and Pikachu have been together ever since I started my journey from Pallet Town. I don't know a lot about cute, but he's pretty strong."

"He certainly looks it," commented Strung, tapping Pikachu on the nose, much to his delight. "I didn't know Professor Oak gave out Pikachu as starter Pokémon, though. I always thought you got to pick between Bulbasaur, Charmander and Squirtle."

"You do," he said. "I was going to get a Squirtle, but I kinda slept in on the day the professor was giving them out," he added sheepishly. This drew an honest laugh from Strung, though it was good-natured.

"And you ended up with Pikachu because he took pity on you and caught you one?"

"No, actually; he had another PokéBall in his lab, and that was the one that had Pikachu in it," he explained, patting his first Pokémon's head. "I've still got the PokéBall, but Pikachu doesn't like it so he just stays out here with me."

"_Pika pi!"_

"Ah, that's wonderful," she said succinctly, and Ash figured her pause was no doubt to reminisce about how she had met her first Pokémon. A question sprung to mind, too.

"What was your first Pokémon, if you don't mind me asking?"

"How about I show you?" she giggled, slipping a Great Ball out of her pocket and opening it in a flash of blue light that drew the derision of the many people nearby. A particularly offended passer-by voiced his distaste louder than the rest, storming over as Strung's Pokémon stomped onto the hard concrete road.

"The heck is your problem, lady?" he yelled, his dark-circled eyes locked in a tight squint to protect them from both the bright morning sun and the remnants of the Great Ball's flash. A thick band of stubble covered the lower half of his face, only seeming to enhance the aura of anger around him as he drew level with Strung. He looked supremely unintimidated that Strung was easily six inches taller than him, but when Strung's Pokémon joined her side, he took an involuntary step backward.

Standing just short of seven feet tall on a pair of thick pink legs, her Pokémon puffed its chest out and glared down at the man, almost as if daring him. Sequential bands of cream-coloured skin dominated the Pokémon's large underbelly, contrasting against the pink shades that covered most of the Pokémon's body. A ruffled collar of alternating red and white patches hung around its neck, giving it an almost regal look that clashed with the vicious glare on its face. A huge shell crown sat atop the Pokémon's head, adorned with a red gem in the centre and two horns curving upwards.

"H-h-hey, I don't want no trouble!" the man stammered, cowering under the sheer size of Strung's Slowking. He slowly backed away, hands held in front of him in surrender before turning tail and bolting down the street to a chorus of laughs from the other street wanderers.

"Well, that was interesting," Ash chuckled, scratching a cheek with a bemused look on his face as he watched the man run. A burst of giggling from behind made him turn around, finding Strung to be the source of it. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing, really," she said, dismissively waving him off. She walked over to one of the many vendors lining the street and purchased a bottle of water. "But yes, Slowking here is my first Pokémon," she laughed, having forgotten about Ash's request in all the commotion.

"I've never seen a Slowking as big as yours!" he exclaimed, having to crane his neck upwards to get a good look at the Royal Pokémon. Next moment he felt a tug on his collar, dropping his gaze to see Pikachu staring at him with a stern look on his face.

Pikachu tapped a wrist with his paw, and then mimed a quick boxing performance. _"Cha!"_ Ash took a few seconds to understand what Pikachu was signalling, but when he did, he felt like someone had dropped a piano on his head.

"My battle!" he howled wildly. It had completely skipped his mind when that weird man had approached Strung. His head darted this way and that, looking for any sign of the stadiums, but all he could see were other people in a hurry like him running down the street, vendors hocking their wares to anyone who would listen, and that Salamence from earlier making a second pass over the rooftops.

And then it dawned on him.

"Hey, I walked down this street earlier, and it's nowhere _near _the stadiums!" He rounded on Strung, paying absolutely no attention to Slowking as it took a half-step forwards. "You said you knew the way!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at her and glaring through narrowed eyes.

"Calm down, Ash," she said, breaking into another giggling fit and nodding to her Slowking. The huge Pokémon trudged forwards with Strung in tow.

"What do you think you're—?" Ash fumed, but he was silenced as, for the second time today, he found himself under the grasp of a Psychic attack. _Are you kidding me? _he roared, but the noise was all in his head, his entire body immobilised by the Psychic-type's power.

"Slowking," Strung grinned, resting a hand on her Pokémon as it did the same to Ash, "you know what to do."

She locked gazes with Ash, and for the briefest of moments, Ash saw something that looked like an apology in her blue eyes. But then it was gone. Her grin widened, almost like she was enjoying this, and the next instant his world went white.

* * *

><p>He felt dizzy. The darkness around him spun in a whirling, monotonic blur, up and down indistinguishable from each other. All he could feel was an aching pain in his knees and head. He reached out with shaking hands, feeling them make contact with something hard. Was it the ground?<p>

He pushed hard against the surface, and it refused to budge. Confident as one in his state could be that he'd found the ground, Ash tried to crawl onto his knees, using his unsteady hands to brace his efforts. His trembling arms buckled under the strain and he crashed back down, his face hitting the ground hard. It felt rough, sharp at some points, almost like gravel…

Suddenly he felt a light tug on his jacket, almost like someone was trying to remove it. A pained groan escaped Ash's lips as the grip tightened. Next moment, he was involuntarily hauled to his feet. His body was trying its hardest to establish some form of balance, but his mind was still spinning inside. "What happened…?" he managed to choke out, feeling himself fall forwards again. The tug on his jacket redoubled, holding him fast but making the spins worse.

The seconds ticked by as he was held in that leaning position, and the world slowly began to right itself. The darkness began to subside into an assortment of grey hues. He could feel a sensation other than pain in his legs as blood was forced back into them. They started obeying what his mind was telling him; to stand up. Gradually, he regained control of his senses and his feet. The pulling force on his jacket tentatively relaxed, and he stumbled forwards a couple of steps before steadying himself.

"You alright, Ash?"

Ash gingerly turned around, only to receive a face full of cold water. He staggered backwards and fell over again, his backside landing with a loud thump on the pavement. Hastily wiping the water off his still-pained face, his eyes adjusted to the scene around him. Hundreds of people were milling about on an open plaza to his left, adorned with colourful balloons and umbrellas outside the numerous cafés. To his right was an enormous metal edifice which completely shrouded the sun behind it and cast a shadow half the size of a football field towards the plaza.

He allowed his eyes a quick wander to take in the structure, and at the top of the wide arch adorning the entrance he spotted a sign; Stadium 17.

"You're _really _not used to Teleporting, now are you?" Strung chuckled, grabbing Ash by the collar of his shirt and dragging him to his feet again.

"Teleporting?" he repeated blankly, looking under her shoulder and seeing her Slowking standing by. Pikachu was perched on its shoulder and looked very relieved to see that Ash was okay, leaping off the Water-type's shoulder and bounding towards him.

"_Pika! Pikapi!"_

"Hey buddy!" he said cheerfully, stooping down for a moment to let Pikachu jump onto his shoulder.

"Sorry about the whole business with the Psychic attack, but I knew you weren't going to stand still for long enough," apologised Strung, taking the chance to ruffle Pikachu's ears. "I didn't want to mislead you, but I _really_ needed some water. This island's too hot for anyone's health."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Ash waved it off. It wasn't like he was late to his match; people were still filtering into the stadium, so there was no reason to suspect that he'd have to forfeit it. In truth, he was just relieved to have made it. "But now, I _really _need to get going."

"Don't sweat it," she said, shooing him towards the entrance arch.

Ash took the hint and gave her one last smile before jogging over to the stadium, waving a hand at her and her Slowking as he did. "Thanks for your help, Strung! And you too, Slowking!" he yelled over his shoulder, and the faintest trace of a laugh echoed to his ears as he ran inside.

He was met with a powerful gust of air-conditioning as he raced into the lobby, eyes searching for directions to the trainer tunnels. Once he'd found the desired sign not even three seconds later courtesy of the directory conveniently placed at the foyer, he took off, ignoring everything but the path he needed to take. He was oblivious to the soft blue carpet beneath his feet, the fans wishing him good luck as he tore past them with the speed and agility of a Scyther, the inviting yellows and blues lining the walls, and the intoxicating smells wafting his way from the stadium's main food store.

Rounding another corner, he found himself running down a tunnel towards a particularly tall security guard clad in a fluorescent green shirt. The guard pulled a phone out of his pocket, pressed a few buttons and flung an arm out to stop Ash when he drew level. Ash skidded to a stop to avoid coat-hanging himself on the man's forearm.

"What's the big deal? I've gotta get out there for my battle!"

"One moment, Mr. Ketchum," the security guard said, raising the phone as the call went through. "Sir, Mr. Ketchum has just arrived. Withdraw the forfeit order."

A few tense seconds passed as the guard waited for confirmation. Satisfied with his response, he snapped the phone shut and nodded at Ash. "You'll need to work on your punctuality for your next battle, Mr. Ketchum. Now get out there. The fans are particularly restless for this battle," he winked, lowering his arm and jerking his head towards the end of the tunnel.

Flashing the guard a mischievous grin of his own, Ash bolted to the bright square that signified the battlefield. As he approached, he got a hint of what the guard was talking about; the noise coming from the crowd above and around him was immense. He could feel tiny vibrations in the ground as he ran, such was the volume being generated. Pikachu seemed to have noticed it, too, for the Mouse Pokémon pulled Ash's collar up and twisted his cap slightly, smiling at his trainer as the pair of them stopped just shy of the exit.

"Well, this is it, Pikachu!" Ash announced, his heart racing in his chest, and not just because of having to run all the way here from outside. "Our first battle of the tournament! Let's get off to a good start. Whaddaya say?"

"_Pikachu pichu!" _responded Pikachu, curling his paws into fists and turning to face the battlefield.

"That's the spirit!" he grinned, stepping out onto the featureless field as his shoes sent a puff of dry dust into the air. As if the dust were the fuse to an explosive, so did the crowd burst into a thundering chorus of cheers as he walked out. Ash actually jumped in surprise at just how _loud _it was. It reminded him somewhat of the opening ceremony, only without the multitude of colours. He waved back to the screaming fans, who swelled with noise once more at the sight of their favourite trainer.

But Ash only had eyes for one person, amongst the thousands present in the stadium. And that was the person already standing at the field's centre circle. It was a boy roughly the same age as him, and probably within an inch or two of his height. Slight of figure, he was dressed simply, sporting a collared maroon shirt with black stripes at the bottom and a pair of full-length, navy blue jeans, something which struck Ash as odd. The weather wasn't that suited for jeans.

The boy had his arms folded across his chest. Clearly, he had been made to wait for Ash's arrival. Ash silently hoped that he could make it up to him with a thrilling battle. His brown eyes flicked from some random point in the stands over to Ash as he made his way closer. Dabbing his fringe away from his eyes, he readjusted the orange-lined, round-brimmed hat perched loosely atop his chocolate brown hair. He looked impatient for the battle to start. But a shadow of a smile crept onto his face when he saw Pikachu riding shotgun on Ash's shoulder.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," Ash said when he reached the centre circle.

"It happens," the boy smirked. "You'll just have to make it up to me by giving me a darn good battle, eh?" he challenged, echoing Ash's earlier hopes.

"Great minds think alike," smiled Ash, his trademark competitive glint sparking to life in his eyes. His opponent must've noticed the spark, for he unfolded his arms and held out a hand to introduce himself.

"I'm Ari. Ari DeVarro."

* * *

><p><em>If you managed to guess who Ash's opponent was before that last line, you deserve a medal. And victory cake. <em>

_As a semi-important announcement, I'll be taking a leaf out of Aron's book (go read his stories!) from chapter ten onwards, and may start answering acceptable questions that are sent to me. So get thinking! And swing by my profile before you send any questions in. I'm not going to answer questions that are already addressed in my profile. Instead, I will laugh and throw virtual sheep at your bedroom window._

_Chapter 8 will be released on Tuesday, December 5th, and, as a treat to you faithful readers, will feature a salivating battle. I'm sure many of you are already brainstorming theories about what's to come, but you should never count your chickens before they hatch. That's also a good tip to remember when reading through Crown in general._

_Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	9. Fool's Mate

**CHAPTER 8 – FOOL'S MATE**

"Ari DeVarro," the other trainer said, smiling as he held a hand out for the traditional pre-match handshake.

"Ash Ketchum," replied Ash in kind, gripping Ari's hand tightly with his own and scanning his face for something – anything – that could be a tell as to his strategy. Alas, Ari gave Ash absolutely nothing to work with, a tactic he'd developed over many years competing in tournaments like this one, and so Ash promptly dropped the handshake and walked back to his side of the field. Ari did likewise, his meaningful steps leaving puffs of dry dust in his wake.

_Alright, Ash, get your act together, _Ash told himself as he turned to face Ari again, now with the two of them separated by easily a hundred feet of flat, featureless dirt. _He certainly seems tough, but you can take him. Just play smart and don't panic._

"_Pii," _Pikachu murmured, patting the side of Ash's head. Ash cast Pikachu a sideways smile and nodded at the Electric-type as their referee, a plain-looking man with thinning, greying hair launched into his pre-match explanation of the rules.

"This match will be comprised of three one-on-one single battles in elimination style," the referee explained, holding his flags at attention and pointing them at Ash and Ari respectively. "For each individual battle, you will receive one point for knocking out the other trainer's Pokémon. In the event of a tied battle, neither trainer will receive a point. At the end of the match, whoever has scored the most KO's will be declared the winner and will receive a bonus point. Do you understand?" he asked the two trainers, receiving shallow nods from both in return.

"Mr. Ketchum, you will select the first Pokémon," he instructed, waving his red flag at Ash as the crowd leaned forward in anticipation, curious as to the Kanto trainer's first choice.

"Right!" Ash said confidently, turning to his first Pokémon and smiling. "You ready, Pikachu?"

"_Pika pi!" _replied the Mouse Pokémon, cheeks crackling with electricity as it bounded onto the stadium floor amidst a chorus of fanatical cheering.

On the other side of the field, Ari merely sighed and shook his head. "You're not very bright, are you, Ash? Sending out a Pokémon I _knew _you'd have on you as your very first option isn't exactly a smart move," he commented, much to Ash's annoyance.

"Taunting Pikachu isn't a smart move either, so send out a Pokémon and let _it _do the talking," he fired back, his many fans in the audience backing up his words with more cheering and a smattering of jeers aimed at Ari.

"If you insist," Ari said, all traces of kindness evaporating at the tone in Ash's voice as he plucked a PokéBall from his belt and launched it skyward. "Electivire, engage!"

One blinding flash of white light later, and Ash couldn't help but grit his teeth in frustration. The Pokémon standing before him and his Pikachu was easily six feet tall, and covered from head to toe in shaggy yellow fur. A bulky Pokémon, with arms like tree trunks and a pair of cord-like black tails whipping around behind it, it looked like a cross between a yeti and a grapefruit. But Ash had seen plenty of that kind of Pokémon before, and he knew he'd played right into Ari's hands by sending Pikachu first.

The referee took one look at the two Pokémon and raised his flags. "The first battle will be Pikachu versus Electivire. Begin!" he announced, his words quickly accompanied by the _ding_ of metal on bronze as the starting bell rang.

"Pikachu, let's get things started with a Quick Attack!" Ash ordered, and his faithful Pokémon bounded forwards with incredible speed, sending dust flying out behind it as it homed in on Ari's Electivire.

"You heard him, Electivire!" grinned Ari, and Electivire raced forward with speed to match Pikachu's, enveloped in a shroud of white light as it slammed its considerable mass into Pikachu's and sent it flying back towards Ash. Electivire didn't even appear fazed by the impact, bouncing Pikachu away as though it were little more than a tennis ball.

"Pikachu!" Ash yelled in concern as his Pokémon tumbled to a stop just feet away from him. Pikachu slowly clambered back to its feet after being winded by the strike, glaring at Electivire with its front paws curled into fists. "That's the way, buddy! Now, try for an Iron Tail!" Once again, Pikachu bolted towards Electivire on all fours across the dusty ground, its lightning bolt-shaped tail gleaming with energy as it pounced.

"_Piikaaa…pika!" _cried Pikachu as it swung its body around, bringing the full power of the attack crashing down on Electivire's head.

Or so it would've, if Electivire hadn't thrown up an arm to block the attack.

In the moment that Pikachu found itself dropping to the ground after the failed attack, he could only watch on in disbelief as the Thunderbolt Pokémon gave a sinister snarl, its huge body taking up Pikachu's entire field of vision before it brought its free fist crashing into his cheek with the force of a freight train. The smaller Electric-type only got a glimpse of the shimmering appendage before he was knocked aside, and not even a split second later Pikachu crashed with a loud _crack_ into the boundary wall more than forty metres away.

Ash stood still with shock, his mouth agape from the brutal power delivered by Electivire with its last attack. It was by far the most powerful Mega Punch he'd ever seen. And it looked like it had just knocked Pikachu out with one hit. The crowd had instantly jumped to the same conclusion, and those who weren't cringing in their seats or nervously willing the unmoving Pikachu to get back up were cheering wildly for the sheer power of Ari's Pokémon.

"P… Pikachu?" Ash stammered, frozen in horror. Pikachu weakly responded with a pained, quiet yelp as he rolled over onto his stomach. His eyes were screwed shut, an expression of agony carved onto his yellow face as he tried to get back up, his defiance sparking a fresh chorus of cheers from the salivating crowd. Ari and Electivire were content to watch, but they were made to wait for a long time as Pikachu's trembling arms struggled to push itself off the ground. "Pikachu!" Ash yelled out, trying to encourage his Pokémon.

"Put them out of their misery, Electivire. Thunderbolt," Ari said. Ash clenched his fists in anger, Pikachu stood up on wobbly legs, and Electivire flashed with yellow light as it charged up a Thunderbolt.

"Pikachu, try and block it with your own Thunderbolt!" Ash cried out.

Cheeks crackling with electricity, Pikachu braced himself against the ground and discharged the bolt, sending a spear of lightning racing across the arena. Grinning maliciously, Electivire held back, cancelling its Thunderbolt and letting Pikachu's strike its yellow fur dead-on. Ash's mouth fell open in mute resignation as he grasped Ari's ploy, the full scope of the situation sinking in as Pikachu's Thunderbolt activated Motor Drive.

The thick yellow fur coating Electivire's body bristled as Pikachu's Thunderbolt coursed around it, and the Pokémon itself let out a triumphant roar as the excess electricity surged through its body, priming its nervous system for action. Electivire growled viciously and jabbed its twin black tails into the dusty earth, grounding the overcharge as Ari calculated his next move.

"Quick Attack," he ordered.

Ash could only manage a strangled cry of "Pikachu!" as Electivire streaked across the field. In the state he was in, Pikachu felt Electivire before seeing it, his world turning black as the massive yellow blur crash-tackled him and crushed his small body against the boundary wall with a sickening _crunch_. Pikachu was left to fall limply to the ground as Electivire pulled back, but an outraged cry rang through the stadium when Electivire gave the unconscious Pikachu one last punch for good measure.

Ari folded his arms, as still as Ash or Pikachu, expression unsmiling and unwavering. His brown eyes were firmly trained, not on Pikachu, but on the back of his Electivire as the crowd jeered and booed its poor sportsmanship. He gave a sharp whistle and beckoned for his Pokémon to come back, and Electivire dutifully trudged over to its trainer as the referee raised his green flag.

"Pikachu is unable to battle! The winner is Electivire, and Mr. DeVarro receives one point!"

"What was that?" Ari fumed as Ash ran to the boundary and picked up his unconscious Pokémon, cradling him in his arms as he stalked back to his square with his head down. Electivire timidly glanced at the ground and gave in to the urge to massage its hand, which was still aching after that colossal Mega Punch.

"I asked you a question," Ari pressed scathingly.

"_Vire eelek lek vi eelekvire!" _protested Electivire.

"I don't care about that," he fired back, tensing his jaw and waiting for his Pokémon to retort. Electivire wisely decided to bite its tongue, and Ari recalled it in a flash of red light. "You and I are gonna have a _long _talk after this battle," he muttered to the PokéBall as he stowed it on his belt.

"Mr. DeVarro, please send out a Pokémon so we can continue this battle," the referee said, twitching his head towards the anxious crowd.

"Hang on a second, please," he politely told the official, turning back to Ash. "Hey Ash, I'm sorry about my—"

"Don't be," Ash said, finally tilting his head up. Ari was honestly surprised that Ash wasn't at all angry with him. "These things happen in battles, y'know? All that there is to do is move on in the battle, otherwise we can't enjoy them as much as we want to."

"Well said," Ari smiled, putting Electivire's transgression to the side for now. "I'm assuming it'd be unreasonable to _let _you win this next battle, wouldn't it?" he asked as he took his second PokéBall in his hand.

"Of course it would," answered Ash. "But then again, I don't need your sympathy to be able to beat your Pokémon," added the Pallet Town native, and Ari didn't miss the competitive glint in his eyes, bright enough to scorch the ground between them.

"So be it. Magmortar, engage!" Ari yelled, opening the PokéBall in a second flash of white light. The crowd burst into a thunderous chorus of cheers as Ari's Pokémon stomped onto the field, the crown of flames atop its head flaring up in the sunlight.

"A Magmortar, eh?" Ash grimaced, remembering the particularly difficult battle he'd had against Paul's at Lake Acuity a few months ago. He quickly pushed the memory out of his head and refocused. He needed to win this battle to get a point and put himself in with a chance to win the match and the bonus point. _Magmortar are pure Fire-types, and thankfully I've got something here that can handle Fire-types…_

"Don't even think about going easy on me in this battle, Ari! Because you're the one who needs to be worried!" he called out as his fingers closed around the fourth PokéBall on his waist. Double-checking that Pikachu was safe at his feet, he ripped the orb off his belt and threw it high into the air. "Gliscor, I choose you!"

"Not bad, not bad," Ari mused as Ash's Ogre Scorp Pokémon caught a gust of wind and drifted down to the ground, standing on its barbed tail and hissing venomously at Magmortar. It wasn't the most powerful Gliscor he'd ever seen, but it looked riled up by the fact it was facing his Magmortar. Indeed, Magmortar seemed restless to get the battle underway, too, having already begun heating the air around it.

"Tell you what," he said, catching Ash off-guard, "for this battle, I'm not going to issue Magmortar with any orders. He'll battle alone. How does that sound?"

"Hey, I just told you not to go easy on me!" Ash replied sourly as he crossed his arms, offended that Ari wasn't taking him seriously.

Ari laughed off the comment, much to Ash's surprise. "Believe me, Ash, I'm not going easy on you. Magmortar's had plenty of experience battling without orders to be able to give you a fair run for your money." As if taking cue from his trainer's words, Magmortar assumed a battle stance and retracted the claws in its arms, revealing the empty cannons they concealed.

"The second battle will be Gliscor versus Magmortar with Mr. DeVarro leading Mr. Ketchum one point to zero! Begin!" exclaimed the referee, once again raising his flags as the bell sounded for the battle's commencement.

Before Ash could even open his mouth to give Gliscor its opening order, Ari's Magmortar aimed an arm-cannon dead straight at Gliscor's torso and shot a huge fireball at it. "Dodge it!" was all he could say as the projectile rocketed closer, and Gliscor barely evaded the missile by darting to the right at the last second, the fireball dissolving into the air behind Gliscor in a puff of black smoke.

"Told you so," Ari said, a smile playing on his lips as Magmortar lowered its cannon.

Ash ignored the taunt and turned to the offensive. "Gliscor, get in close for an X-Scissor!"

Gliscor bared its fangs once more in a horrible smirk, shooting forwards in the wind sock left by Magmortar's fireball with its claws spread wide. It wound a wide arc to its left, riding the strongest air currents to pick up more speed as both claws were enveloped in pulsing energy, its yellow eyes never leaving Magmortar's.

At the very last second before impact, Magmortar aimed a cannon below Gliscor and loosened a jet of searing air into the ground, propelling it away from the strike. Gliscor's attack ploughed through empty air inches from Magmortar's head, but the Blast Pokémon felt the attack even from that distance, reflexively shooting a fireball from its other arm at Gliscor's face. As if it were expecting the attack, Gliscor slashed at the fireball with what remained of its first attack, shredding the fireball into oblivion. In a heartbeat Gliscor readjusted and swung again, this time feeling its claw score a true hit against Magmortar's chest.

Seeing Magmortar take a backwards step from the strike, Ash pushed his advantage. "Great work, Gliscor! Now use Screech!" he cheered, buoyed on by this first successful attack as noises of surprise and jubilation poured in from the gargantuan crowd. Giving its opponent no time to recover after its X-Scissor, Gliscor swooped, opening its mouth wide and loosing an ear-shattering volley of shockwaves.

Magmortar wasn't as fazed by the last hit as Ash or Gliscor had hoped, and promptly went on the defensive, a glimmering green shield appearing out of nowhere to block the Screech attack. The shockwaves raged against the protective cage, unable to penetrate the bubble before they were buffered away from it, leaving Magmortar unharmed from the intense attack. The ground beneath the two Pokémon strained and shook as it was battered by the deflected waves, and when Gliscor changed pitch it gave in, cracks spearing in all directions and spraying debris everywhere.

"Darn, it knows Protect," Ash growled in agitation, recognising the attack as the same one Paul's Electivire made extensive use of. However, as Conway had demonstrated in their tag battle way back when, there were ways around a Protect manoeuvre. "Gliscor, keep up that Screech! Magmortar can't hold that Protect forever!"

Taking heart from its trainer's encouragement, Gliscor turned its Screech attack up to eleven, the whole stadium beginning to vibrate as Magmortar's Protect stood firm and channelled the attack into the foundations. A ferocious stalemate followed in the ensuing seconds, only permeated by the swelling crowd as they awaited the resolution. Gliscor's irresistible force seemed more than a match for Magmortar's immovable object, but the question was which would come out on top.

* * *

><p>"Gliscor certainly seems to be holding its own out there, doesn't it?" commented a slender girl with short purple hair and a gold-trimmed white blouse, high up in the stands of Stadium 17 as she watched the struggle between Gliscor's Screech and Magmortar's Protect. Her friend let out a raucous laugh as he unstuck a collared, sleeveless white shirt from his chest.<p>

"That's because Magmortar's fired off all of two attacks, and neither of them had any real power behind it," he said, running a hand through his blond hair to spike it up more. Even though he was slouching in his seat, he still sat taller than the purple-haired girl, and was probably twice her weight, too, on account of his strong athletic build. "Though I do have to admit, good work on Trash's part to provide us with some vibrating chairs for the battle, eh? Maybe we should try and talk the PLC into installing some."

"His name is Ash," the purple-haired girl corrected, casting her friend a filthy look and turning back to the battle as Gliscor poured more power into its attack, trying to break Magmortar's resistance.

"Anabel, he's battling Ari. His name's pretty irrelevant to the outcome of the battle. Unless of course his name was something like, say, Leoric—"

"Have I ever told you how much I hate it when you refer to yourself in third person?" Anabel asked, lavender eyes darting between the two trainers down on the field to gauge their reactions. Ash was standing with curled fists, silently willing his Pokémon on between gritted teeth. His attention was completely devoted to his Pokémon's plight, evidenced by his unwavering gaze. Ari had his arms folded across his chest, but he was much more relaxed than Ash. He seemed to be more concerned with the rapidly deteriorating field than with the current state of the battle.

"I wonder…" muttered the person on Anabel's left; a man in his thirties dressed entirely in blue to match his messy hair. Anabel and Leoric both turned away from the battle to hear what he had to say as he propped his flipflops against the chair in front. "Did Ash do _any _research on Ari before this battle?"

"Not by the looks of it," Leoric smirked, receiving another reprimanding glare from Anabel for his comment. "Oh, come on, Anabel! I put that as nicely as I could have." A raised eyebrow from the girl prompted an explanation. "Think about it. He sent his Pikachu out when he had to choose first. If he'd even _looked _at Ari's profile, he'd know Ari had an Electivire and that it'd be suicide to send an Electric-type – let alone a _Pikachu _– out under those circumstances."

"I know," Anabel groaned, burying her face in her hands. Ash had started terribly in the match, and compounded with Ari opting for his top roster, things looked very bleak for him. She took a fraction of comfort from the fact that Gliscor seemed to be faring better than Pikachu, at any rate. _Poor Pikachu…_

"…You don't want Rash to _win_, do you?" Leoric asked in bemusement.

"Ari's deliberately making it hard for him!" she replied, ignoring his belittlement.

"He's testing him," said the blue-haired man, making Leoric whirl around in surprise. Before he could elaborate any further, the crowd surged forward with fresh cheers, forcing them to divert their eyes back to the field. Down on the stadium floor, Magmortar's Protect bubble was shuddering under the continued force of Gliscor's Screech, which had only seemed to strengthen in the last minute.

"Is that Gliscor _beating _Magmortar?" Leoric burst out wildly, not believing his eyes. Sure enough, the moment the words left his lips, Magmortar's Protect shattered into a million pieces as the crowd dissolved into hysterics around him. The three of them jumped out of their seats for a better look, craning their heads over those of the people in front as they watched Ash order Gliscor forward again.

Magmortar clamped its arms over its ears in a desperate attempt to drown out the reverberating remnants of the Screech attack, oblivious to Ash ordering Gliscor forwards. Baring its large fangs, the Ogre Scorp Pokémon grinned horribly as it zoomed in, tail writhing in anticipation of a victory. With the noise of ten thousand fans cheering it on, Gliscor swooped and sunk its fangs deep into Magmortar's left arm, releasing a lethal charge of electricity directly into the limb. Magmortar let out a tortured scream as Gliscor's Thunder Fang paralysed the arm, driving all feeling but pain from it until numbness set in.

"Told you he didn't do his research," said Leoric simply, dropping back into his seat with all thoughts of a victory for Ash forgotten. "I give Gliscor ten seconds – at most – before it's face down in the dirt with its head between its legs."

"Leo!" Anabel barked, outraged by the tone in his voice, but she couldn't turn away from the scene before her as it unfolded. Ash whooped with delight and cheered Gliscor along with his thousands of fans, but the more knowledgeable members of the audience either shifted back in their seats or started booing Ash for the last move.

And in a flash it became evident why.

A second scream erupted from the stadium floor, but this time it belonged to Gliscor, enveloped in a raging tempest of heat and blistering winds with Magmortar at its core. The Fire-type was shining with orange light as it vaporised almost everything around it with its internal body heat, and the two Pokémon quickly began to resemble a pair of flaming torches. The only difference between them was that Gliscor wasn't one voluntarily, instead being subjected to the full effects of Magmortar's attack as its own body was superheated.

With its prey not letting go, Magmortar intensified the onslaught, and the ground beneath it melted into a bubbling pool of lava. The skin on Gliscor's face and torso was seared black as Magmortar pushed the ambient temperature beyond three-thousand degrees, Gliscor struggling to detach itself from the Blast Pokémon before the intense heat took its toll. A dangerous smirk played on Magmortar's lipless mouth as it unleashed even more heat, watching as it slowly burned Gliscor's skin a deathly black.

An anguished cry of "Gliscor, no!" echoed up to the crowd's ears, Ash taking a panicked step closer to the spectacle and shouting for his Pokémon to get away.

"Gotta hand it to Gliscor, though, being able to stand up to it for more than a few seconds," mused Leoric, completely unsurprised that Magmortar had opted for the attack. It was quite energy-consuming, but Magmortar was as tactically brilliant as many trainers, and at that close range the technique was almost a guaranteed KO.

The reason it _wasn't_ a guaranteed KO was revealed a second later as Gliscor finally escaped from Magmortar's purgatory, screeching in agony as it tried to make sense of its surroundings. Both Leoric and Anabel could tell that it was in almost unbearable pain, and even something as gentle as the cooler winds it was flying into would hurt it. But nonetheless, the blackened and burned Gliscor turned back to face Magmortar with its fangs bared.

Only for its world to go dark as a gargantuan pillar of orange light crashed into its chest.

Like Ash down below, Anabel started in surprise and horror as Magmortar's Hyper Beam drove the hapless Pokémon into the boundary wall with a sickening crunch that left little to the imagination. After a moment of stunned silence, the crowd erupted into rapturous applause, praising the efforts of both Pokémon; Magmortar for its offenses and Gliscor for its resilience. Anabel turned to Leoric, and was at the very least thankful that Leoric hadn't joined in with the applause, even if the people around him were going berserk and chanting Ari's name.

On the field, the referee didn't even need to double-check Gliscor's condition, raising the green flag once more. "Gliscor is unable to battle!"

* * *

><p><em>Well there you have it; Ash's first glimpse of battling in the Conference. And he's off to a fantastic start, by the looks of it.<em>

_I bet none of you can wait to see how this battle will finish, and you're in luck, because you only have to wait three days for it! Chapter 9 will be released on Thursday, December 8th, and will feature the end of Ash's first-round battle with Ari. But before that, I can't wait to hear your thoughts over this, the first proper battle of the tournament._

_While I'm at it, a big thanks to Shuffleveryday and (anonymous) JuicemeisterZ, for reading and reviewing every chapter of _Crown _in the space of a single day. Cheers for the comments, you two~_

_Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	10. Genki Unleash

**CHAPTER 9 – GENKI UNLEASH  
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Ash didn't know what to do. This was only the first match of the first round, and so far both his Pokémon had been brutalised by their opponents. He hadn't even come close to winning either of the battles, and one look at his fallen Gliscor was enough to tell him what Ari's Pokémon could do if given license. Raising a shaking hand as the referee made the result official, he recalled his Pokémon amidst a haze of red light, muttering a quiet and reserved thanks for its efforts against Magmortar.

"—Mr. DeVarro receives a second point!" the referee announced, much to the delight of the crowd, who were jumping up and down in their seats in unison. "Since Mr. DeVarro currently leads two points to none with only one battle remaining, he will receive the bonus point for winning this match. That being said," he added, turning to Ash, "the third battle must still take place, and there will be one point awarded to the victor regardless. For the third battle, Mr. Ketchum will select the first Pokémon."

Ash barely heard the words, but nodded in understanding nonetheless as he considered his position. Yes, he'd lost the match. But there was still one point left up for grabs, and he knew very well that sometimes, one point is the difference between advancing to the next round and being eliminated. Thanking his lucky stars that the top _two _qualifiers from each group of four advanced to the next round, he made his final choice for the opening battle of his campaign, snaring the fifth PokéBall on his belt and tossing it high.

"Infernape, I choose you!"

Roaring proudly from within the burst of light that signalled its arrival, Infernape sprang onto the stadium floor, immediately positioning itself in its regular stance and waiting for an opponent to emerge. As if sensing the occasion, the flames atop its head climbed higher in the stark air, fuelled on by traces of Magmortar's mysterious superheated attack.

All eyes flitted to Ari in anticipation of his response. For the first time in the battle, Ari paused, seemingly weighing his options. He'd seen footage of Infernape's exploits, and had been impressed with its battle against Paul in the Sinnoh League. He knew it was a powerful Pokémon, and probably the most dangerous one he would face in the first round.

After a full minute of deliberation and another request from the referee, Ari made a decision. He smirked and tilted his round-brimmed hat back, checking Ash's eyes for an initial reaction. "Gallade, engage!" he said as he hurled his third PokéBall onto the field, his Gallade appearing on the field and extending the blades on its arms to their full length.

"The third and final battle for this match will be Infernape versus Gallade! Begin!"

_DING!_

"Infernape, let's start things off with a Flamethrower!" Ash called, throwing an arm out. Infernape took a deep breath and held it for a moment before spewing a jet of orange flames across the field, the tremendous heat of the attack licking at the front-row spectators.

"Teleport!" said Ari.

Gallade fearlessly stared down the incoming Flamethrower before gracefully twirling on the spot and disappearing in a whirl of warm air. A frown crept onto Ash's face as Infernape's attack vaulted through the empty space Gallade left behind and flickered out, his eyes scanning the field for any sign of the Pokémon.

_Come on, Gallade, where are you? _he thought furiously.

"_I'm right here, Mr. Ketchum!"_ replied a voice in his head. A split second later, Gallade warped into view barely a foot from Infernape, an arm bent in front of it like a tennis player readying a backhand. Before either Ash or Infernape could react, Gallade swung its bladed arm flush into Infernape's temple, delivering a punishing Brick Break that sent the Pokémon sprawling across the field.

"Infernape, are you alright?" Ash shouted, heart racing. His nerves were only slightly calmed when Infernape bounced lightly back to its feet, growling at the Blade Pokémon as it flicked its blades up in an effort to taunt him.

"_Ferr!"_ hissed Infernape, offended by the question.

"Alright! Hit that Gallade with a Flame Wheel!" he said, Infernape curling itself into a ball as the crown of flames on its head unfurled and spread to cover its entire body. By the time Infernape sped forwards like a boulder rolling down a mountain, the fire had consumed it, turning the Pokémon into an earthbound meteorite as it raced towards Gallade.

"Gallade, Psycho Cut into the ground! Divert that Flame Wheel!" Ari countered.

Not missing a beat as its foe closed in, Gallade spun on the spot, bringing a bladed arm over its head and crashing down into the ground, thankful that Magmortar's technique had drained the moisture from the field. The dry rock split apart like tissue paper, sending jagged spikes of earth spearing out from the ground at all angles. Infernape was too slow to change course, hitting one of the spikes at an odd angle that propelled it into the air high over Gallade's head.

"Infernape, tuck out and use Flamethrower!" Ash yelled, seeing an opportunity for attack.

"Spin and cross defense!" was Ari's order as Infernape came out of its spherical pose, now lying prone in mid-air as it fired a searing jet from its jaws, aiming for Gallade's back as it fell towards the earth. On instinct, Gallade twisted around, throwing a pair of shining blades up in a cross formation to buffer the powerful attack away from its body. It was only marginally slow on the uptake, but that was enough for it to feel the flames at its sides as the Flamethrower coursed around it.

Stopping the Flamethrower so it could soften its landing, Infernape performed a lithe barrel-roll then leapt back to its feet, whirling around to continue its offensive. Another burst of fire was ready at its lips but when its eyes found the spikes Gallade had turfed up only moments ago, Gallade was no longer there.

Ash had seen Gallade disappear into thin air just before Infernape had, and he knew Gallade would Teleport in for its next attack. "Settle down and use your other senses to get an idea of where Gallade is!" he instructed, knowing that neither he nor his Pokémon could afford to panic in this situation.

Infernape saw the sense in the move, too, and halted its attempts to locate Gallade with its eyes, instead closing them and focusing, waiting for the slightest of disturbances to alert it to Gallade's attack. The hair on its body stood partially on end, the fire on its head dimmed, and its tail ceased its motion, Infernape becoming like a statue to drown out all disruptive stimuli. Even managing to tune out the voices of the crowd as their voices swelled and surged like a roiling ocean, Infernape waited. It knew Gallade would have to—

_SWISH!_

From nowhere, an outstretched blade whistled over Infernape's head, missing by millimetres as the Flame Pokémon flattened itself against the ground. The tiniest deviation in a swirl of wind had tipped it off, and its palms gave an almighty twist, pushing itself up off the ground and into a spin as it threw a savage uppercut.

The fist found Gallade's side, the Pokémon's red eyes widening in shock before the lightning-fast punch knocked it sideways to a tidal wave of excited exclamations from the crowd all around it. Righting itself in flight with its psychic powers, Gallade gently lowered itself to the ground as Infernape landed on its feet and opened its eyes, the two combatants glaring at each other with fire in their eyes.

"Good hustle, Infernape!" Ash grinned, delighted by the unamused look on Ari's face. Ordering that last move had been a gamble, but it had paid off handsomely. "Give Gallade a taste of your Mach Punch!"

"Teleport!" commanded Ari, folding his arms over his chest and watching as Infernape's fist glowed white. The next instant, both Pokémon disappeared from view, the only clue to their previous whereabouts the puffs of dust their departure had thrown about. A series of shocked exclamations ran through the crowd as they tried and failed to track their movements, but neither Ash nor Ari gave anything away, instead glaring at each other from across the field.

The two Pokémon rematerialized behind Ash in a swirl of hot air, and Infernape thrust its glowing fist forwards, striking a clean hit on Gallade. But the Blade Pokémon faded into the warm air; an after-image. Infernape gritted its sharp teeth, flames roaring to mirror the Pokémon's agitation, and it swiftly followed Gallade into thin air. Confusion reigned supreme amongst the audience for a moment, furthered along when an identical sequence transpired only metres to Ash's left. Infernape's fist went straight through Gallade this time, and again it faded into the air with Infernape hot on its heels.

The two Pokémon clashed for a third time in the centre of the field. Again, Infernape threw a punch at Gallade, but on this occasion Gallade reacted, swinging a blade up to block the attack. A horrendous ringing echoed from the impact, a noise of steel on glass echoing in the ears of the crowd as the two struggled to break the contact. Gallade eventually parried Infernape's attack, throwing the Fire-type off balance.

"Psycho Cut!" Ari yelled when he saw the shift, and Gallade didn't hesitate in swinging an arm bathed in pink light into Infernape's side. A howl of pain escaped Infernape as it hit the hard ground face-first, but it dug in, hands forming fists as it pushed itself up. A jolt ran through it courtesy of the throbbing ache in its side, but pain wasn't going to stop Infernape at this stage in the battle.

"Come on Infernape, you can do it! Try another Flamethrower!" yelled Ash, worried that this final battle was quickly slipping out of his grasp. Ignoring its injuries, Infernape blasted another fiery spire at its opponent, who had proven to be far trickier and nimble that it had first thought.

"Break through and retaliate with a Brick Break!" Ari countered impassively.

Gallade obliged with a twitch of its head as it charged towards Infernape and its Flamethrower attack. Shining blades at the ready as it ran, it stampeded into the torrent with the same cross-armed defense it used earlier. The Flamethrower curled around the Blade Pokémon as it mowed Infernape down, pushing through the attack like a knife through hot butter. When Gallade emerged on the other side of the stream, it looked like a warrior sent from hell, fire rising from its blades as it dealt Infernape a telling blow across the head.

Infernape crumpled to the ground. Pain was beginning to flood through it from the multitude of scratches and bruises covering its battered body. With Gallade towering over it, blade raised high waiting for an order, it valiantly struggled to its knees for what felt like the millionth time, legs shaking. Gallade's eyes flicked back to Ari.

"_An order, Master?"_

_Let it happen, _Ari communicated with a frown, folding his arms across his chest and waiting with bated breath as Infernape stumbled backwards a step. Dutifully, Gallade dropped its raised blade, but nonetheless it assumed a fearsome battle stance. Extending both blades to their full length, Gallade poised itself to strike the exhausted Infernape down on command from its trainer, red eyes keenly tracking every shaking twitch of its foe's body.

Ash knew Infernape was suffering. Everyone could see it. But he also knew that this was when Infernape shined brightest. And sure enough, Infernape let out a bellowing roar of defiance as it stood up tall, its form exploding with a violent red energy. Gallade threw an arm up to shield its eyes from the searing light and jumped back to put some distance between itself and the enraged Pokémon.

"And there it is," Ari smirked. He'd been wondering when Infernape's Blaze would activate, if it would at all.

"Careful, Ari," said Ash, the confidence in his tone surprising his opponent. "You know what they say. If you play with fire, you're gonna get burnt." In front of him, Infernape roared again, its voice overwhelming the noise of the crowd as its crown of fire climbed higher.

"Is that so?" Ari challenged with a grin. "Gallade, let's shown them who's playing with fire!" His Pokémon narrowed its red eyes to slits and held its blades at attention, tuning its hearing towards its trainer.

"Infernape, use Flamethrower again!" Ash called out.

The flame atop Infernape's head doubled in size as a colossal stream of white-hot flames erupted from its maw, flooding the field with light and scorching the ground beneath it. Gallade stared down the fire and raised a gleaming blade high, a moment before the fire swallowed it whole. The crowd erupted in screams, cheers and everything in between as the blaze continued to rage from Infernape's mouth, awed by the amazing power it was drawing on as the supercharged Flamethrower swept across the field.

Ash pumped the air with his fist, overjoyed with the hit. But when he saw Ari hadn't even moved, realisation hit him like a speeding truck.

"Infernape, behind you!"

Time seemed to move in slow motion for Infernape as it stopped the Flamethrower attack, whirling around on the spot. Gallade was barely a foot away, face emotionless as it drove a shining pink blade straight for Infernape's face. Adrenaline provided the reaction. Infernape thrust a glowing fist forward to meet the attack. The punch parried Gallade's strike and deflected the force of the blow away from its body. The energy behind the Psycho Cut tore a massive gash in the field over its shoulder, but Infernape only had eyes for Gallade.

"Flamethrower!"Ash bellowed, the word echoed by five thousand fans behind him.

Gallade's eyes swivelled down to meet Infernape's as the latter opened its jaw wide. In the growing light emanating from its mouth, Infernape's blazing red eyes made it look positively otherworldly; a demon sent to punish Gallade for a past transgression. Gallade only had enough time to throw its blades up in defense.

Infernape unleashed an immense pillar of blue fire at the Blade Pokémon, the flames pouring out of the Fire-type's mouth like a bursting dam. With the momentum of a speeding train, the attack drove Gallade's frail form towards the boundary wall. Helpless to deflect the onslaught, it took all Gallade could to buffer the attack with its blades as it was forced back, its feet carving deep trenches in the ground.

"Hang in there, Gallade!" cried Ari, and for the first time he wasn't in control of the battle. Infernape's Blaze was much stronger now than he'd seen before. He doubted even his strongest Pokémon could keep pace with an attack like this for very long.

Amidst the furious inferno, Gallade dug its feet into the blackened earth, struggling back against the overwhelming attack. But Infernape seemed to have found a bottomless reservoir of fire, and it wasn't until Gallade felt its feet touch the boundary wall that it finally came to a stop. The heat of the attack was absolutely incredible. Within seconds the metal wall began to warp and twist. Ignoring the pain threatening to overload its body, Gallade tried to shift its body away from the epicentre of the attack. But to no avail. It was pinned, even if its crossed blades were blocking the worst of the fire.

The entire crowd was on its feet by now, stamping and cheering and screaming themselves hoarse. None of them had expected a battle this exciting on the first day of competition, but the two trainers were world-renowned, and they hadn't disappointed. Even in the brightness of the morning sun, Infernape's flames were the ones dictating the light. Illuminating the entire stadium with a wavering blue glow, they raged against the foe Gallade, but Ari's trusted choice would not yield, pulling on all its strength to try and free itself.

"Zen Headbutt!" Ari yelled, his voice straining as he tried to make himself heard over the blazing fire.

"Flare Blitz!" Ash countered, silently willing Infernape on with everything he had.

With the sound of creaking metal, Gallade flung its arms to the side, and an X-shaped blade of white flew into the flamethrower. The blade split the flames down the middle and funnelled them away from its creator, but it dissipated well short of its target as the Flamethrower faded into the wind. Infernape gave a bellowing roar as its body exploded once again with energy, and it rocketed forwards, enveloped in a blazing coat of blue fire. Gallade shrouded itself in an identical blue aura and threw itself head first at Infernape's Flare Blitz.

Infernape screamed for blood as it cannoned into Gallade, the sheer power of its Flare Blitz obliterating Gallade's Zen Headbutt and driving onwards into its foe. But it felt no impact against Gallade's thin frame, passing straight through the empty air Gallade had been only a moment ago. Out of nowhere Gallade reappeared high above, streaking down into Infernape like a meteor and crushing the Flame Pokémon face-first into the ground.

Ash could do nothing but watch as Gallade crashed into his Pokémon, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground amidst a vortex of black smoke. He would've yelled at the top of his voice for Infernape to get up and keep fighting, but when he saw the flames on Infernape's head flicker and disappear, he couldn't find the heart to. Beside his defeated Pokémon, Gallade stumbled to a knee. The left side of its body was charred black and unrecognisable, and it flung a bladed arm into the ground to steady itself after Infernape's assault.

"Infernape…" Ash mumbled, joining Gallade on his knees as the referee raised his green flag for the third and final time.

"Infernape is unable to battle!"

* * *

><p><em>Raise your hand if you picked this result from the outset of the battle. …I thought not. I sure hope you enjoyed this thrilling conclusion to Ash's opening battle, though!<em>

_Many thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing in the last four weeks; your comments and that viewer bar in story stats are what drive me to keep writing. So keep 'em coming, ya!_

_Chapter 10 will be released on Thursday, December 15__th__. I know it's a big deviation from my current bi-weekly updating schedule, but alas, work and other life stuff is taking up more and more of my time with every passing week. As it stands, this "new" update schedule of only-Thursdays will remain in effect until January 5__th__, when the holiday season has more or less ended. The way I see it, you're all going to be busy over the holidays, and slowing down means you're less likely to miss out on that fresh chapter smell greeting you on update mornings. Aren't I just so considerate?_

_Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	11. e4

**CHAPTER 10 – e4**

Ash sat alone on a bench inside the battleground's Pokémon Center, hat pulled low over his eyes as he stared at the tiled floor. His next battle wasn't for another two hours or so, and he was glad to have some time by himself to reflect on his battle with Ari. His Pokémon had already been checked in for recovery, but Nurse Joy had told him that Gliscor might have to wait a bit longer than the others. He saw little sense in getting himself in a knot over their condition – the nurse knew how to fix them up, so instead he thought about the battle he'd just had.

Sure, Ari's point about sending Pikachu out right off the bat made a bit of sense, but aside from that, he hadn't put a foot wrong. Even with the clear advantage it had, Electivire beat Pikachu like it wasn't even an effort. Gliscor had fared better against Magmortar, but not by much, and had ended up noticeably worse for wear thanks to that technique Magmortar had used right before the Hyper Beam. Infernape had Gallade on the ropes, and although it had heavily damaged the Blade Pokémon in the process, it too had been beaten. He was willing to put those losses to the side for the moment.

What had him worried the most was where the loss left him in the tournament. He'd gotten no points from the battle, so he'd be at least three points behind the second-placed person in his bracket. Ari had gotten the maximum amount of points possible – four – so even if he won both his other battles, so long as that other person got another four from their other battle, he'd be eliminated in the first round. In all the tournaments he'd been in, he'd never been knocked out in the first round. Indeed, the only time he hadn't made the finals was in the Kanto League, and that loss was a technicality by anyone's standards.

"Ash," said a sullen voice above him. Ash dragged his vision up, and was surprised to see that it was Ari, minus the hat he'd been wearing for their battle. He looked apologetic, remorseful. Even though Ash understood that the battle went the way it did.

"Oh, hey Ari," Ash mumbled, casting his gaze back to the ground. He wasn't really in the mood for company, let alone from the person he'd just lost so heavily to.

"Look," Ari said, taking the seat next to Ash and looking over at him. "I know you're not expecting me to apologise for anything, and I wasn't planning to. But I still want to say that what happened in our battle earlier was nothing personal."

"What do you mean?"

"Regardless of who I faced in my first battle, I was going to do everything I could to come away with four points. You just had some bad luck running into me first," he shrugged, and as Ash returned stare he could tell that Ari was being honest. "Anabel even asked me to go easy on you before our battle."

"That's nice of her, I guess," he said, the words taking a while to register anything significant in his head. "Wait, you know Anabel?"

Ari nodded and hid a laugh. "Yeah, we've known each other for a while."

"Why would she ask you to go easy on me, though?" he asked, having not seen or even heard from the Salon Maiden for at least a year.

"Not important," Ari responded slyly, scratching his nose. "What _is _important is that, after the battle, she felt so bad that she guilt tripped me into doing something… different for you."

"She didn't tell you to lose a match to give me a better chance of getting through, did she?" Ash removed his cap and ran a hand through his hair. Even though he'd only been in the one battle, he was already hot under the collar from the action.

"Quite the opposite, actually," Ari replied, drawing a surprised noise from his fellow trainer. "She told me to win my other two battles three-nil as well, so you get the _best_ chance of making it through."

"How does that work?" he asked, absentmindedly watching a small girl with maroon hair approach the counter.

"If I win my other two battles three-nil, then all three of you – you and the other two – will be on even ground. If you win your other two battles, you'll go through to the next round. It's not a sure thing, since it'll depend on the result of their match with each other but… Anabel wants you to get through, and I've got no problem with that, so you've got my word I'm going to help you," he explained, finally cracking a genuine smile for Ash at the very end.

"Don't feel like you owe me any favours, though."

Another laugh from Ari. "I don't. It's Anabel I'm doing the favour for."

Ash returned the laugh and held out his hand. "No hard feelings for the battle, then."

"No hard feelings," he said, accepting the handshake and grinning widely.

"So what was that move your Magmortar used?" Ash asked, but Ari got to his feet.

"Sorry Ash, but that's a story for another day," he said, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. "Just… make sure you don't lose again, yeah? I want to see you in the finals," he added, and with that he made for the sliding glass doors, disappearing behind them shortly thereafter. Ash watched him leave, now with a new goal for the tournament. Aside from winning the whole thing, obviously.

He wanted to beat Ari along the way, if that were at all possible. Call it male pride if you will, but Ash wouldn't feel like a true champion until he bested him. Perhaps training with Ari would help toughen up him and his Pokémon for the future rounds. His first step, though, was getting some points out of his next battle.

Telling himself to come back in an hour for his Pokémon, he weaved his way through an influx of trainers and out the sliding glass doors. The sun was still high in the sky and contributing to another day of sweltering heat, signalling that it wasn't too far from midday. That gave him plenty of time to prepare for his must-win battle later in the day. Smiling to himself with the assurance that his loss to Ari was just a minor speed-bump, he set off.

"Hey Ash!" shouted a voice from the doors of the Pokémon Center. Ash looked over his shoulder, once again finding that it was Ari who had called his name, the boy leaning on the glass windows of the Center with a foot propped against it. This time he had his hat on.

"How come you're still here? Don't you have a battle to prepare for?" Ash asked, curious as to why Ari was sticking around.

"My battle's not for a few hours," he answered with a shrug, fidgeting with his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. "How's about we take a walk? I've got some things to discuss with you, and we can go watch a friend of mine battle, too," he offered good-naturedly, giving a _'why not'_ gesture with his hands to try and seal the deal.

"It won't take long," he added, sensing the hesitation in Ash's demeanour.

"I'd love to, but like you said, I should be researching my next opponent," Ash said politely, already with one foot aiming down the opposite end of the street.

"Way ahead of you, Ash," Ari said, grinning from ear to ear as he suggestively flicked an eyebrow.

"You researched my next opponent for me?" he asked suspiciously, wondering why Ari would do such a thing.

"Mate, _I'm _facing these trainers too, remember? It's only natural that I'd research them myself. You just get the benefit of not having to sit in front of a computer screen for a couple of hours," chuckled the Ecruteak trainer, clapping a hand on Ash's shoulder and steering him towards the stadiums. "Come on, it'll be fun. And who knows? You just might learn something. And it'll give both of us something to do instead of a couple of hours of bored waiting."

Ash was caught a little off-guard with how nice Ari was being. He certainly _hoped _it wasn't because he felt guilty over beating him earlier, but Ari said that wasn't bothering him, so he had no reason to complain. And if Ari had some tips for his next battle, he really couldn't turn down his offer. Not to mention it'd certainly be helpful to pick the brain of a regional champion.

"Alright then," he laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets as they walked. "Do you know where we're going? I almost got lost trying to find the stadium earlier," he admitted sheepishly with an embarrassed grin.

"Don't worry about it, I know where to go," Ari said. He'd searched out most of the island from above when he'd arrived, so he knew most of the streets, how to get around the stadiums, and also where all the good restaurants and cafes were. Of course, some of the routes had faded from his memory thanks to his company at the time, but he remembered enough to get by.

"So who's this friend of yours, anyways?" Ash asked, already beginning to miss the familiar feeling of Pikachu standing on his shoulder. Up ahead, he spied an elaborate archway decorated with numerous flowers and twists of climbing vines over the frame.

"Someone I met on the boat over here, actually. A trainer from western Johto. Don't think you've met, though. He's nearly always on the road, and you two never seem to be in the same place at the same time. Heads up, though, he's a bit of a—"

"—Whaddaya mean by 'same place at the same time'?" Ash interjected, feeling that Ari knew a little more about him than he was comfortable with.

"On your trainer profile, it says you competed in the Kanto League first, then Johto, Hoenn and Sinnoh in that order. And judging from your age, none of those time slots line up with my friend's. Or me, for that matter," he added as an afterthought, almost to himself.

"Huh… I _really _need to start doing that research stuff, don't I?" Ash joked heartily. Now within arm's reach of the archway, he identified one of the flowers on the arch as a gracidea. "Which stadium, by the way?"

"Stadium 22," Ari said simply as they passed under the arch and into the main recreational hub of the island. "If his battle finishes quickly, we might be able to catch up with Anabel before you need to head off, too," he smirked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from his newest friend. He would've continued talking, but a voice invaded his thoughts, making a proper conversation with Ash impossible.

"_Master Ari, is there a method to your madness?"_

_Of course there is. Anabel wants him to do well in this tournament, so I'm helping her by helping _him_. I'm not doing it purely out of the goodness of my heart, if that's what you're wondering, _he explained as he and Ash passed a vendor selling hotdogs and ice-cold drinks. The temptation to buy one of his favourite snacks was erased when the voice spoke up again.

"_Of course not. Though I _am_ curious as to why you're employing the methods you are around Mr. Ketchum."_

_I honestly have no idea what you're talking about_, he thought, tilting his head towards the multitude of shops on his left.

"_You surely must have a similar "idea" regarding my telepathy, no?"_

Ari suppressed a curse, keeping his head turned away from Ash as the conversation progressed. Sometimes he felt that his Pokémon were too smart for their own good. _Point taken. What specifically has you curious, then? _he asked the voice.

"_Your decision to have Magmortar battle solo against Mr. Ketchum's Gliscor. You said that he was a trainer who relied on improvisation rather than any concrete strategy, and based on that analysis, he would undoubtedly have found it less challenging to fight Magmortar under your command."_

_Anabel speaks very highly of his abilities as a trainer. I thought he could handle the challenge, _Ari answered as they turned down a side-street. He heard Ash's footsteps cease behind him as the other trainer pressed his face against the glass of a TM shop, so he chose to end the conversation by tuning the voice out. It managed to squeeze in one last comment before it went silent, though.

"_Which does that imply, Master; that he could beat you, or that he could entertain you?"_

* * *

><p>"How's your hand holding up?" Michaels asked, his expression stern. He tucked a hand into the outside pocket of his jacket.<p>

"Better than most in this situation, I'd imagine," said a pained Russell Carter, tapping the heavy bandaging over his left hand as a nurse checked his eyes for proper pupil dilation. "The medics transplanted some regenerative tissue into the wound when they were stitching it up. Doesn't actually hurt that much thanks to those morphine pills," he added, giving the nurse a grateful laugh as she finished her examination and walked off.

The pair of International Police agents were inside a private room in the Battleground's hospital, the jet black of Michaels' suit a stark contrast against the inviting whites and beiges of the hospital's interior. Russ, presently hunched over atop a spare stretcher, hadn't changed out of his attire from the previous night, despite the nurse's insistences. Michaels had taken the liberty of retrieving Russ' greatcoat, the garment having been forcibly confiscated when the nurse found Russ using it to stem the bullet wounds.

It had been difficult for Michaels to find a hole in his schedule with which to check up on Russ. Fortunately, Samsara had kindly offered to cover the ceremony's security report to Goodshow, giving him the half-hour he needed. _I need to remind myself to thank him for that. I know how much he dislikes those reports…_

"Mr. Carter, your antibiotics," chimed the nurse as she re-entered the room, placing a small tray on the table near the door. Russ nodded in acknowledgment and she took her cue to duck back out.

"Can't go getting infected if I want to get back to work," he sighed, hopping off the stretcher and scooping a glass of water off the tray. It was only then, with the two of them both standing up, that one could really get an idea of how tall Russ was. Michaels was by no means a short person, but he only reached Russ' chin.

"Russ, take—"

"—You know I can't do that, sir," he interrupted, downing the pills and cracking a bone in his neck. "I need to be back in the taskforce, investigating this."

"No, you don't," insisted his superior, putting a firm hand on his shoulder and pushing him back onto the stretcher. "I already have my suspicions as to who tried to kill you," he added, his eyes clearly sending Russ a message; don't stress yourself, I'll take care of it.

Russ made a noise halfway between a laugh and a sigh as Michaels turned to leave, wondering why Michaels was trying to keep him out of the loop.

* * *

><p><em>Not as action-packed as the last two chapters, but I sure hope you all got a kick or two out of reading this. <em>

_Props to fellow TiNa moderator _infinityphoenix_ for his handful of reviews this week; keep 'em coming, and that applies to everyone as well! As always, I'm keen as ever to hear your thoughts over this latest chapter, and I'm sure you're all keen as ever to avoid having farmland animals thrown through your windows. Wink wink, baa baa~_

_Chapter 12 - Latency Disguised will be released December 22nd, in keeping with this temporary schedule. Mark the date on your calendars, because [SPOILERS!] it's quite an interesting chapter in the scheme of things. [/SPOILERS!]_

_Until next time, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	12. Latency Disguised

**CHAPTER 11 – LATENCY DISGUISED**

The sun was high in the sky and beaming, bathing the entirety of Stadium 22 in bright light and scorching heat as Ash and Ari found their seats. Squeezing past a heavyset couple twelve rows from the front, they plopped into the hard plastic of the chairs, Ari grabbing the attention of a wandering vendor and purchasing a pair of ice-cold drinks for them.

"Thanks," Ash said gratefully, jamming his lips over the straw and taking a long drink. Taking a look around, he noticed that the crowd in attendance for this battle was much smaller than the one that had turned up for his battle with Ari. By his estimate, only a few thousand had taken to the stands, all packed into the lower tier.

Like the two of them, the rest of the crowd were all waiting – some of them very impatiently – for the battle's commencement, and it was a good minute before they were given a reason to celebrate. With a loud mechanical whirring, the steel doors at either end of the field slid apart to reveal the darkened trainer tunnels.

"Guess they couldn't spare a commentator for this match either," Ari muttered to himself, looking on as a trainer finally stepped onto the field. Without the particular flash of hair he was expecting, the trainer failed to draw Ari's attention, but nonetheless his companion in Ash watched on as she took her place on the field. Noticeably, she was exceptionally short and with a shock of chin-length black hair strewn about her young face. At least her choice of clothing was better than her hair – a large, plain grey shirt hung loosely from her shoulders, flowing down to a matching pair of cargo pants.

"She looks like she just got out of bed," commented Ash with a slight chuckle. In truth, he was thankful to see that he wasn't the only person who'd had an unfortunate morning before their first battle.

"Hope for her sake that she's a quick riser. She's going to need to be alert," Ari said, eyes trained on the opposite side of the field to the girl as her opponent stepped out. A man who differed from the girl in every way walked out into the view of the crowd, who responded with resounding approval. He was quite tall – at least six feet – and with short, ocean-blue hair that stuck out at odd angles. Traces of wrinkles were beginning to creep onto his weathered face, especially around his dull brown eyes, and his stubble-lined jaw was held in a firm lock as he made his way to the centre circle.

In stark contrast to his rugged face, his choice of clothing suggested hints of being much more easy-going. A simple shirt to match the ocean-blue of his hair covered an averagely built torso, adorned with an image of pink bubbles rising from a cresting wave. Identically coloured board shorts splashed with random patches of white fabric fluttered in the soft breeze, and he folded his tanned arms over his chest, holding the young girl before him in a friendly, yet intent stare as he came to a stop.

Ari joined the crowd in applauding the newcomer, offering an explanation to a somewhat confused Ash as the latter put his hands together out of courtesy. "His name's Luuyn," he said, twitching his head at the tall man. "Hails from Cianwood City in western Johto, and he's been a trainer for almost eighteen years. From what I've learned of him since we met, he seems to know your friend Brock's father, Flint."

"You know Brock?" Ash asked, his voice a mix of surprise and eagerness as mirrored by his raised eyebrows.

"Not personally, no," replied Ari with a shake of his head. "I just know that he's a friend of yours. Same goes for Misty, though another friend of mine's… run into her a few times in Cerulean."

Ash diverted his attention from the field, his gaze locking onto Ari's though they didn't meet eye to eye. He was unnerved with how much Ari knew about him and his friends. _Guess he's _really_ thorough when it comes to the whole researching thing, _he guessed, though the question continued to nag at his conscience as he checked the field again. He leaned forward in his seat as he saw that both trainers had sent out their Pokémon for the first battle; Luuyn had gone with a Ludicolo, whereas his opponent had opted for a Hariyama.

"Looks like the other match was a curb-stomping as well…"

"Huh?" Ash asked, the words lost amongst the indomitable crowd as they cheered a successful Double Team manoeuvre from Ludicolo. After getting no reply, Ash broke his concentration again and turned to Ari, finding the boy staring intently, not at the battle, but at a phone he'd recently produced.

"The battle between the other two members of our bracket," Ari elaborated, flipping the phone shut. "It actually ended a few minutes before ours did, but this was the first chance I'd really had to check the results. It was a three-nil win to Hope," he frowned.

"That's bad, right?" grimaced Ash, knowing that a close result would've been much more favourable for his aspirations to proceed.

"For you, that's pretty much worst-case scenario," he sighed, and Ash knew Ari was thinking about the promise he'd made to Anabel earlier in the day; to help Ash through to the next round as best he could. "I checked both of them out earlier, and Hope seems a much tougher trainer than Fraser. If he'd've at least scraped a point against her, you wouldn't need as many points to qualify for the next round. But a three-nil win puts her on four points, just like me…"

Ari broke off mid-speech, presumably weighing up Ash's options. Rather than explicitly waiting for Ari's opinion, Ash crunched the numbers himself. Assuming Ari beat the other two three-nil like he said he would, he'd need to make up at least four points in his two remaining battles. That more or less meant he had to win both battles, and by no less than a margin of two-one each. It was far from an impossible task, but the way Ari had frowned when he learnt of Hope's victory worried Ash.

"Your next match is against Fraser, isn't it?" Ari said suddenly. Neither of them paid any attention as the crowd around them jumped to their feet, and they completely ignored the large soda that went flying over their heads.

"Uh, I think so?" laughed Ash. He honestly didn't know.

"It is, I checked the battle schedule for our bracket," Ari replied, more to himself than to Ash. "Well, since you need to win that match to have any shot of advancing, we might as well start with that."

"Start with that?" he repeated blankly, oblivious.

"Going over what you should do to pull out a win against Fraser," said Ari obviously. "First things first, though. He's a trainer from Pastoria City in the Sinnoh region. He's been to all four regions minus Hoenn, and he's been a trainer for about eleven years. Despite his experience, he's not a particularly strong trainer; the kind you'd expect to face in the first few rounds of a major tournament. Maybe the finals qualifiers if he's lucky.

"You with me so far?" he asked.

"Somehow," Ash chuckled, amazed at how much Ari had learnt just from his research. The boy was like a portable computer when it came to knowledge about other trainers. Ash wouldn't put it past him to know where or even how Fraser had captured all of his Pokémon.

"He doesn't have a lot of particularly rare Pokémon, so the ones he owns are probably ones you've battled before. If so, draw on the experience you had fighting those species. I checked some battle footage, though, so I'll offer this one bit of advice beforehand: look out if he uses his Skuntank. It's a lot faster than its bulk would lead you to believe, and it knows a nasty Hidden Power to cover its Ground-type weakness."

"Check," nodded Ash.

"In general, Fraser tends to follow a pseudo-set strategy for most of his battles," Ari continued. "He favours defensive moves which can be used in powerful combination attacks—"

"Whoa, slow down," Ash interrupted, putting his hands out to emphasise it. "I understood everything up to that move favouring part."

"Okay, I'll use an example you're very familiar with," Ari said seamlessly, almost like he was expecting the misunderstanding. "In battle, you've had your Donphan use Defense Curl to brace against an attack, then followed up with Rollout to take advantage of the position provided by Defense Curl. That's what Fraser does, only he does it a lot more often than most people. A defensive move which launches into a combination attack."

"Oh… You could've just said 'stuff like Defense Curl and Rollout'" said Ash meekly.

"True, but he uses a lot more tricks than just Defense Curl and Rollout, so watch out for that in your battle," he warned. "If you want to beat Fraser – which you're going to need to do _convincingly_ – you have to be able to circumvent, or at least defend against, these combination attacks."

"Any ideas on how to do that?" he asked. It's not like he was short on ideas; normally, he was a brilliant improviser, something which had seen him win countless battles over the years. It's just that Ari really seemed to know what he was talking about, so he didn't see the harm in picking his brain.

An explosion of noise from the crowd signalled the end of the first battle, and Ash started forward in surprise when he realised he'd missed the entire first bout. He'd been so focused on talking to Ari about his upcoming matches that he hadn't even _looked _at the field in the last five minutes.

"Ludicolo won that, in case you're wondering," he said offhandedly, before pausing to contemplate Ash's question. As the proverbial cogs whirred inside his friend's head, Ash glanced back at the battlefield, spotting three fresh craters in the field's surface, and numerous pockmarks forming a line down the western half of the stadium floor. Luuyn was grinning widely as he hurled a Great Ball onto the field, a flash of white light revealing a Croagunk as his second Pokémon.

Across from him, the short girl who was his opponent glowered at the prospect of facing the Toxic Mouth Pokémon. After a brief moment of thought, she too chose her second in the form of an Onix. The Rock Snake Pokémon reared up to its full height in an attempt to intimidate Luuyn's Croagunk, but the display did much more to scare the crowd than the Poison-type, many of the more nervous members shrinking back in their seats as the Onix towered over them.

"Defense," Ari said finally, once the crowd had quietened down following the excitement of Hariyama's defeat.

He only had time for that one word, too, for an echoing _ding _around them gave way to the second match's commencement. In a flash Onix pounced, swinging its enormous tail into the air. Croagunk didn't even flinch as the giant appendage came down with enough force to split the ground in two, and it had good reason. Onix's tail slammed into a translucent green bubble and bounced harmlessly away, much to the outrage of its owner and trainer.

"The key to beating Fraser is a strong defense," Ari repeated, raising his voice to get the message across. "You need to pick Pokémon that can take a lot of damage, but can also dish it out when they need to. Tanks, as they're commonly called. From the videos I've seen, you don't need to worry too much about having Pokémon that are fast, they just need to be durable."

"So Pokémon like my Snorlax would be good choices?"

"Not necessarily," said Ari, folding his arms across his chest. "Your Snorlax is a very powerful Pokémon, but it lacks strong defensive _moves_. You need defensive moves to outlast combination attacks, moves like Iron Defense and Protect.

"Also," he added, an idea coming to him like a light-bulb being turned on, "improvised moves like that Counter Shield you invented should work well, too."

"Right," Ash nodded, relieved that Ari's suggestions were things his Pokémon could supply. "Bulky Pokémon, defensive moves, Counter Shield," he counted off the tactics in his head and willed his brain to remember them, "what about just hitting his Pokémon really hard right from the get-go?"

"That's a possibility," Ari conceded with a shrug. "Though it's very risky."

"Isn't every strategy risky, though? I mean, there's no—"

"It's risky," he interjected loudly, his irritation with Ash's slowness becoming apparent, "because opening with a strong offense will forceFraser into a defensive state of mind. It'll force him to use defensive moves which he can then springboard into his combination attacks from. Remember what I told you earlier?" he added.

Ash caught the hint of condescension in Ari's voice, but bit back a harsh reply. In truth, Ari had somewhat earned the right to talk down to him about correct strategy. It was still a bitter pill to swallow when the trainer who just beat you gave such a lecture, though.

"The best advice I can give you for next battle is to let him make the first move," said Ari after an unpleasant lapse, focusing on Luuyn's battle and frowning as Croagunk hit the ground and moved no more. Fresh applause filled the air like a roaring jet engine flying overhead as the young girl bolted across the field to hug her Onix. The Rock-type was panting heavily, its face dripping hissing dollops of acrid poison, but like its trainer it was relieved to have pulled off the win.

From his vantage point up in the stands, Ash noticed that Luuyn looked honestly surprised to have lost the battle. Luuyn shook his head and laughed like he'd just heard a particularly distasteful joke and recalled his fallen Croagunk in a burst of red light as Onix underwent the same thing.

"Because if he's attacking he can't use those defensive combinations?" he asked Ari, and the latter nodded and gave a smile.

"Hit the nail on the head, Ash. He can use those defensive moves all he likes, but if that's all that happens for the battle, his Pokémon are going to tire themselves out. Going on the offense leaves him vulnerable to quick counterattacks."

"So basically," Ash surmised, recapping the lesson in his head, "let him attack first, draw him in close and hit him hard before he can swap to a defensive move and pull out a combination attack."

"Precisely," smirked Ari, his interest and attention finally resting on the battle as it entered its final stages.

A cry of "Waffles, let's go!" permeated the air as the young girl threw her third and final PokéBall forwards. The attending crowd all leaned forward in anticipation of her last Pokémon, but instantly shrank back when it was revealed. It stood at barely four feet tall, with five mottled petals that formed an enormous yellow flower atop its stubby green body. But truly the most bizarre thing about the Pokémon was its _smell_. The Pokémon's horrendous odour seeped out in all directions amidst a faint cloud of yellow spores, forcing the fans further back in their seats to escape the overpowering stench of rotten eggs and festering garbage.

"Hey, there's something you don't see every day!" Ash exclaimed with one hand over his nose. "A shiny Vileplume!"

Also pinching his nose, Ari grinned at the sight of the rare Grass-type. "Let's see if it's as strong as its smell, eh?" he laughed thickly.

"If it is, she'll win the tournament with it," joked Ash.

Down below and deep in thought, Luuyn observed the Vileplume's movements for a few seconds before coming to a decision. A grin to match Ari's sprang onto his face as he showed his response to the audience, another burst of light preceding the form of a Dragonite as his Pokémon stomped onto the field with a bellowing roar.

"And there's his Dragonite," Ari murmured, his comment completely drowned out by the chanting crowd as the usual _ding _prompted both trainers into action. Luuyn was the faster of them, barking an order to Dragonite, who spewed a powerful sheath of fire across the field. Vileplume was given the signal to dodge the Flamethrower, but its hefty bulk made the task too difficult. Dragonite's Flamethrower struck Vileplume head on, the sheer power of the attack driving Vileplume into the steel boundary wall to thunderous applause.

* * *

><p>"Just remember what we talked about in the stands, and you should do fine against Fraser," Ari reiterated to Ash as the pair of them waited outside Stadium 22. The two had left before the end of Dragonite's battle with Vileplume, and had thankfully avoided the usual post-match exodus.<p>

"Defend when he attacks and counterattack hard," Ash nodded, summing up the lesson. "But wait, isn't that pretty much what _he_ does?"

Ari laughed, glancing over Ash's shoulder and waving at Luuyn as the latter walked out of the stadium. The man had his hands tucked into his pockets and was whistling to himself, so Ari could only assume that Dragonite had been victorious. "Hey, Luuyn!" he called out, drawing his attention.

"Hiya, Ari!" Luuyn smiled merrily, waving at the pair of them and fighting his way through the surging crowd to reach them. Amongst the hundreds of people either leaving the stadium after his battle had ended or pouring in for the next one, he ducked and weaved with a loping agility, and soon was shaking hands with Ari. "How did your battle go? I'm assuming you thrashed that kid you were up against?"

"Uh, yeah I won three-nil, if that's what you're asking," replied Ari, a little bit embarrassed by the fact that said 'kid' was standing right next to him.

"Who're you calling a kid?" Ash asked, folding his arms and glowering at the tall trainer.

"You, because you don't look like an adult like me," joked Luuyn, immediately catching on but smirking nonetheless as he ruffled Ash's cap.

"Where are my manners?" Ari interjected, unfamiliar with Ash's patience and-or temper and wanting to avoid a confrontation. "Ash Ketchum, meet Luuyn Ziame," he introduced, gesturing between the pair of them and silently edging the two on for some form of greeting.

"Nice to meet ya, Ash," said Luuyn, grabbing Ash's hand in a firm handshake that made the Pallet native wince.

"Likewise," he said through gritted teeth, trying his best to return the handshake through Luuyn's crushing grip.

"Tough break that you lost your first match, but I don't envy you for running into Ari in the first round," shrugged Luuyn, releasing his grip and leaving Ash to flex his hand muscles so the blood would return. "I'd've been surprised if you _didn't _walk away from that match with no points, honestly. Good thing two people advance from each bracket, am I right?"

"Something like that," Ash smiled weakly, stowing his aching hand in his jacket pocket. "I take it Dragonite won, judging by how cheerful you are?"

This brought a wide grin to Luuyn's face. "Who, me? I'm always in a good mood; just look at this great weather!" he laughed heartily, brushing down his wave-patterned shirt. "But hang on a second," he paused, mulling over the point, "how'd you know I used Dragonite?"

"We were in the stands," answered Ari, clapping a hand on Luuyn's shoulder with a sneer.

"You little stalker," he frowned, giving Ari a light push before cracking back into laughter. Ari just shook his head and laughed along, used to this kind of humour.

"Guys, I'd love to stay and chat, but my second battle's starting in about twenty minutes, and I'd rather not be late to it as well," Ash said earnestly.

"Rightio," said Luuyn, waving him off. "I think I'm gonna get some training in before _my_ second battle. Can't go slacking off after I've only got three points! I'll catch you two later." And with that, he bade them goodbye, heading off into the milling crowds and disappearing from view, the last thing to vanish being the gently bobbing thickets of blue hair.

Ari chuckled under his breath, before turning to Ash. "I should get going too. My next battle's on a little after yours, but… I've gotta help a friend prepare for hers. You'll be alright finding your next stadium, right?"

"I'll be fine," he nodded. He'd taken a few moments after they'd left Luuyn's battle to check the battleground directory kept in all stadiums, and he'd worked out a quick route to his next battle at Stadium 11. Quietly thanking the PLC for designing the stadiums in a linear spiral pattern, he waved to Ari and set off.

Once the Johto trainer was out of sight, he took his hand out of his pocket and started rubbing it. "That Luuyn sure knows how to make an impression," he grimaced, passing by the edge of Stadium 22 and onto the accompanying street.

* * *

><p><em>My profuse apologies for this chapter being so late (about three weeks late, I think). Time and other constraints got the better of me, including but not limited to; family visits, Christmas, the cricket, New Years, the cricket, work, and the cricket. Again, sincerest apologies. Hopefully I'll be able to stay on track this new year, though it's far from the start of the year anyways.<em>

_Another 'sorry' for making you all wait for an intermediary chapter of all things, but that's the way things go. Though hey, from here on in, the action picks up for real, so hopefully it's worth it._

_**Chapter 12 - Misread Corpse**, if nothing interrupts me this time, will be posted in a week's time, on Wednesday, January 18th. Pencil that date into your diaries, notebooks, calendars, what have you. Why, you may ask? Aside from being the next chapter, it's also a **battle chapter**. And a darn good one at that, if I do say so myself._

_And since I didn't catch Tyranitar, setting a Sharpedo on Ho-Oh was fair game. Cryptic message of the week; mystery prize to the first person to figure out what it means._

_As always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	13. Misread Corpse

**CHAPTER 12 – MISREAD CORPSE**

_1335… 1336… 1337…_

Ash lowered his hand, having finally counted all the bricks in the trainer tunnel. In contrast to his timely arrival for his battle with Ari, Ash had turned up fifteen minutes early for his second match. Rather than spend the time worrying about what was going to happen in his battle with Fraser, Ash had taken up the mundane activity of brick-counting in an effort to keep his head in its usual Zen mode. Being down four points on the second-placed Hope, he couldn't afford to panic now. If he did, he'd be out of the tournament. It was that simple.

"Mr. Ketchum, they're ready for you," said the security guard behind him. Acknowledging the man with a wave of his hand, Ash took a deep breath, readying himself for what was ahead.

"Alright, Ash. Remember what Ari told you; defensive moves, then strong counterattacks. Let him make the first move. Be wary of his combination attacks," he repeated to himself, and it helped somewhat in calming him. But then the awaiting crowd began to permeate his hearing. That steady crescendo of a chant, "Ash! Ash! Ash!" beckoning for him to make an appearance.

Out of habit he glanced at his shoulder, but Pikachu wasn't there this time, still resting up at the Pokémon Center. He wouldn't be able to offer Ash any words of comfort or reassurance before he took to the field. This time, he was completely on his own. Trying to not let it bother him, he exhaled a long breath and took his first steps onto the grassy field.

The first thing he noticed was that the grass was a lot longer than it looked from the tunnel. His feet sank a good six inches into the grass before finding solid ground, a few blades sneaking up into his long pants and tickling at his shins. The crowd roaring in his ears was definitely loud, but nowhere near as vocal as the one that had attended his battle with Ari. Unsure whether to take that as a good sign, he strode to the centre of the field, marked by a circle of white paint.

Thankfully he didn't have to wait very long for Fraser to take to the field, his opponent striding out under the midday sun as Ash came to a stop. He was quite short for someone in his mid-twenties, with curly black hair styled in something which would look like an afro if his hair was longer. A light shadow of stubble covered his chin, winding up to beneath his beaked nose, above which his curious blue eyes took in the atmosphere.

In Ash's honest opinion, Fraser looked like a teacher, especially with his choice of clothing. A long-sleeved, formal white shirt with segmented pairs of vertical gold lines covered his slight torso, tucked in at the waist to a fashionably slimming pair of denim jeans. Unlike Ash, he looked quite relaxed; thumbs tucked into his jeans' pockets, an easy-going smile on his face, and he also seemed to be enjoying the gentle breeze that rustled through the arena, the same one that made the long grass sway.

"Ash, right?" he asked happily, extending his hand. His voice was loud and commanding, but not demanding. One befitting of a leader, or a father.

"That's right. You must be Fraser," said Ash, shaking the man's hand. He was very relieved when Fraser didn't try to break his hand like Luuyn had; instead he was as gentle as his appearance would lead one to believe.

"Here's to a good battle, Ash. May the best man win, and – hopefully – proceed to the next round," he said, Ash missing the tiniest hint of remorse in his tone as they broke the handshake and headed back to their positions.

On the right-hand sideline, a tall woman with a frayed black ponytail held her flags at attention. "You both know the rules. One point for each one-on-one win, and one point for the overall match win. Mr. Dent will choose a Pokémon first."

"Dent?" Ash repeated blankly, before realising that he never actually asked Fraser for his surname. Allowing himself a soft chuckle at his own forgetfulness, he waited as Fraser made his choice.

"Let's pull out the win, Beedrill!" he grinned, the Poison Bee Pokémon appearing on the field amidst the usual bright flash. Ash was by no means a stranger to Beedrill, having angered dozens of hives of them during his adventures as a trainer, but the noise they made when their wings started whirring always sent chills up his spine. Maybe it was on account of all those run-ins, and that sense of primal dread one got from being chased by a three-foot-tall hornet. But if there was one thing he'd learned from his encounters with them, it was how to battle them.

Ash instantly knew which Pokémon to send out to combat Fraser's first choice, his fingers wrapping around the fifth PokéBall on his belt the moment he saw the Beedrill. "Noctowl, I choose you!" he yelled, throwing the ball skywards where it burst open to reveal his Owl Pokémon. Noctowl spread its vermilion wings wide, throwing a scatter of golden particles into the air which drew the collective fascination of the crowd. "Ooh"s and "Ahh"s rang in both trainers' ears as the spectators admired Noctowl's plumage, but Fraser gave it little more than a passing note.

"Shiny, eh?" was all he said on the matter, knowing that Shiny Pokémon were by no means more powerful than their non-lustrous counterparts.

"The first battle of this match will be Beedrill versus Noctowl! Trainers may begin after the bell!" announced the referee, swinging both flags to her sides as the _ding _of steel on bronze echoed across the stadium.

Counter-intuitively, Ash remained silent as the crowd swelled with expectation for an opening move. Fraser seemed to have adopted the same strategy. Ash frowned, but wasn't about to go back on Ari's instructions to let Fraser make the first move. On the other side of the field, Fraser seemed quite intent to let him. Sensing this stalemate developing, the crowd began to grow restless, jeering them to try and incite some action.

_Ah, nuts to this, no one ever got anything done by standing still, _Ash thought, launching a spontaneous offensive. "Noctowl, cut Beedrill down with Air Slash!" he ordered, throwing his arm forwards and earning the crowd's support for taking the initiative. Noctowl's wings shone with a dull white light, and it gave a mighty flap of its wings, sending three arcs of spinning energy curving dangerously towards the Bug-type.

"Beedrill, dodge it with Agility, then perk up with Rage!" Fraser countered, stepping into action the moment Noctowl finished its move. Beedrill darted to the side as the discs homed in, effortlessly dodging the blades as they swung off course and carved deep gouges in the ground. Amidst the flurry of grass trimmings riding the leftover wind currents to the ground, Beedrill became outlined with a faint but unmistakeable red aura, the buzzing of its wings doubling to a fever pitch.

"Good work! Now move in for a Fury Attack!" he ordered. Beedrill nodded affirmatively and shot forwards like a bullet, one of its spindly arms drawn back to no doubt deliver a powerful thrusting jab when it came within range.

"Knock it down with Confusion!" Ash shouted, a little put-off by how quickly Beedrill was closing the distance between itself and Noctowl. Undeterred, Noctowl took aim, the horns on its head lighting up in a brilliant, sky blue hue. Beedrill was barely ten feet away when Noctowl fired, a gigantic blue beam shooting forwards from its glowing horns and striking Beedrill dead-on before it had a chance to dodge. The strength of the attack pushed Beedrill right back across the field before it managed to slash the Confusion to pieces with a well-placed jab of a forearm stinger.

"Not bad, Ash," Fraser conceded with a shrug of his shoulders, supremely unworried with the battle's first exchange. "Beedrill, let's try another Fury Attack!" he called out to his Pokémon, but Beedrill refused to duplicate its attack. Instead, the Poison-type found more sense in simply beating itself over its own head with its stingers.

_It must be confused! _Ash realised, hesitating on the idea to try another Confusion attack. Rather than attack Beedrill again and risk snapping it out of confusion, he patiently waited for the Poison Bee Pokémon to stop attacking itself. He was too pleased with the lucky shot Noctowl had scored with its Confusion to notice that the red aura around Beedrill's body was growing in intensity with each self-administered attack.

"You done beating yourself up, buddy?" Fraser smirked, well aware that Beedrill's self-harm was fuelling its Rage. It took a couple more strikes before Beedrill was content with the damage it had done to itself, but it looked and sounded absolutely furious when it stopped. Thinking Noctowl was the one who had been smacking it around, Beedrill's wings whirred with anger to match the blood-red outline encasing its body, raising its front stingers in a threatening gesture.

"Noctowl, Take Down, and step on it!" Ash yelled hastily, recognising the buzzing of Beedrill's wings as the same one made when its hive was disturbed. Not wasting a second, Noctowl charged forwards with its powerful wings, streaking towards Beedrill like a miniature comet and crash-tackling the enraged Bug-type into the grassy ground. Ash whooped and punched the air in delight at the strong hit, and Noctowl also seemed pleased with its efforts when it flew back to Ash's side of the field.

But then they both heard the infuriated droning emanating from the grass, sending that usual wave of chills down the back of Ash's neck as Beedrill reared up once more. The Rage aura surrounding it looked eerily similar to that of a Pokémon under Blaze. It was enough to even make the crowd shift back in their seats in worry, they were that unfamiliar with the effects a full-blown Rage would induce upon a Beedrill.

"I reckon it's about time for one of your Fury Repeaters, whaddaya say, Beedrill?" Fraser laughed. A twitch of its head was all the warning Beedrill gave anyone as it raced across the field in a yellow blur, startling both Noctowl and Ash with its speed.

"Fury Repeater?" Ash repeated in surprise.

"It's a combination move me and Beedrill came up with," Fraser explained, a wicked smirk tracing its way onto his lips as Beedrill lashed out at Noctowl with a stinger, missing it by millimetres. "One part Fury _Attack_, one part Fury _Cutter_!" he elaborated, Beedrill accentuating the attack names with a hit each on Noctowl, striking the Owl Pokémon in the left wing and breast. Noctowl squawked in protest and swung a wing into Beedrill's face, stunning the rabid Pokémon for a moment and allowing it a brief escape.

"I don't like the sound of that! Noctowl, we gotta calm that Beedrill down, and fast! Use Hypnosis!" Ash instructed loudly, waiting with baited breath as Noctowl regained its composure and focused its eyes on Beedrill's. A soft wave of shimmering rainbow circles poured out from Noctowl's eyes and seeped into its foe's, but in the enraged state it was in Beedrill was completely unaffected.

"Fury Repeater!" Fraser yelled, smelling blood in the proverbial water.

In the wake of Noctowl's failed attack, Beedrill pounced. One. Two. Three. Four quick blows it landed on Noctowl's body, each double the strength of the last. A fifth connected with Noctowl's wing-joint, the force of the blow sending Noctowl crashing into the ground below, the only mercy afforded to it being the soft landing provided by the lush grass.

"Noctowl, no!" Ash bellowed, almost rushing out of his trainer's box in fright as his Pokémon struggled to pick itself up from the grass. Beedrill's strength and speed were alarming in combination with its Fury Repeater attack, and with it under the effects of its Rage technique, Ash knew he'd have to take it out _fast_. "You good to go for more, Noctowl?" he asked anxiously.

Not one to let an overgrown insect beat it around, Noctowl shook its head and spread its wings wide, ignoring the flare of pain that shot through its right wing courtesy of Beedrill's last strike. The attending crowd all cheered on the Owl Pokémon, if only because it had been an enthralling battle thus far, and Noctowl's refusal to stay down was exactly what made a Pokémon battle great. Beedrill took its opponent's defiance as an insult, and darted down to finish Noctowl off for good this time on Fraser's command.

"Confusion, one more time!" Ash ordered. Noctowl had been thinking the exact same thing, for the words had barely left Ash's lips before its head lit up with blue light. With a trilling cry, Noctowl discharged a second beam, and once again its aim was true, the blue streak smashing into Beedrill's midsection and blasting the Pokémon skywards. "Great shot!" he cheered.

"We're not done just yet!" responded Fraser, eyes tracking his Pokémon as it righted itself high above the battlefield. "Beedrill, go down twin-stinger for a Poison Jab!" he instructed, his Beedrill entering a dive the moment it heard. Aiming both stingers down towards the ground and streamlining its body, Beedrill spun as it descended on an arrow-straight path for Noctowl.

"Third time's the charm, Noctowl! Confusion!" Ash yelled. Narrowing its eyes to focus in on Beedrill, Noctowl took off, charging a powerful Confusion attack as it flew up to meet its foe. Everyone present at the stadium – Ash, Fraser, the referee and the crowd – all craned their heads skywards, daring to brave their eyes against the blazing midday sun as Noctowl launched a third beam of shimmering blue. Completely unfazed as the attack drew closer and threatened to swallow it whole, Beedrill fearlessly flew into the attack, bisecting it with its stingers as it dove relentlessly onwards.

Noctowl desperately tried to duck to the side as Beedrill split the attack down the middle, but the Poison Bee Pokémon wouldn't be denied revenge for Noctowl's earlier Confusions, driving its stingers into the Flying-type and bringing the pair of them down like a brick sinking a plastic bag.

Ash watched with a pained expression as his Pokémon was sent hurtling into the ground, landing with a pronounced _thud_ on the hard ground that not even the grass could muffle from his ears. Reluctantly, he peered over to confirm what his heart had told him was true; Noctowl lying motionless on the ground with swirls in its eyes.

The referee saw the same picture as Ash did, raising her green flag in Fraser's direction and announcing, "Noctowl is unable to battle! Beedrill is the winner and Mr. Dent receives one point!"

"Good effort, Noctowl," Ash said with a resigned smile, recalling his unconscious Flying-type to its PokéBall. "You've earned this rest. We'll make sure we win so you can fight another day, buddy," he told the red-and-white orb before he stowed it on his belt. He looked back over to see Fraser doing the same thing with Beedrill's PokéBall, and felt a twinge of distress at what the situation spelt for him.

At the moment, he was sitting on last place in his bracket. Ari had four points, Hope had four, and Fraser had one. If Fraser won the next matchup, it was mathematically next to impossible for him to proceed; he'd need to salvage a point from the last battle, cleansweep Hope in his final match and pray that Ari got two three-nil results. That was a lot of things that need to fall his way. Ash was never a fan of leaving his destiny in someone else's hands, so he knew that if he had any shot to survive in this tournament, now was the time to step up. Now was the time to pull off a miracle.

"Mr. Ketchum, please send out your next Pokémon," requested the referee.

_This is it, Ash, _he told himself, his hand strafing across his belt to close around his sixth, _you lose this next matchup, and you're out of the tournament. No two-ways about it. You want to stay in the race? You gotta win. Got it? You. Must. Win!_

"Go!" Ash roared, tossing the PokéBall forward. Splitting open and making the crowd cover their eyes at the intense white flare it produced, the orb's contents also gave them a reason to cover their noses as one of Ash's most notorious Pokémon flopped onto the field. It was a seething pile of purple slime, the only distinguishable features being its cavernous mouth and small white eyes. Rejoicing in its own putrid stench and relishing the chance to fight for its trainer again, it raised an amorphous purple fist to the skies as the grass around it withered and died under its touch.

"_Muuuuuuuhhh!" _groaned the Pokémon, none other than Ash's Muk.

"God that's awful…" muttered Fraser, pinching the bridge of his nose and making a counter-selection with his free hand. "Pull out the win, Drifblim!" he said, opening his PokéBall and releasing the Blimp Pokémon for the world to see. At first, Drifblim welcomed the open outdoors, but shrank back a fraction as Muk's overpowering stench seeped its way, fouling the normally clean air.

"The second battle of this match will be Drifblim versus Muk! Begin!"

Ash didn't even wait for the starting bell to sound, halfway through an order before he heard it. "Muk, use Sludge Bomb!" he said, throwing Ari's advice out the window and opting for offense right off the bat. He couldn't afford to waste time waiting for Fraser to make the first move; he had to strike early and decisively whilst he still had the element of surprise.

"Drifblim, defend with Stockpile!" Fraser countered as Muk opened its mouth wide and fired a volley of balloon-sized sludge pellets. Drifblim hummed in response, sucking in a vast volume of air that further enhanced its moniker as the Blimp Pokémon. By the time Muk's Sludge Bomb reached its target, Drifblim was spherical, though the attack did score a direct hit, exploding on contact with Drifblim's body and releasing clouds of noxious gas.

_Come on, tell me that did some damage… _Ash willed, crossing his fingers and waiting for the smog to disperse. When he finally got a look at the impact region, he wasn't too disappointed; Muk's attack had by no means done any serious damage, but he could definitely make out a few scorch marks where the attack had landed. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Pay it back some with Shadow Ball!" Fraser called out, snapping Ash out of his thoughts in time for him to see the Ghost-type forming a deathly purple blob of pulsating energy in front of itself.

"Another Sludge Bomb, Muk! Block that Shadow Ball!"

The two Pokémon attacked simultaneously, Drifblim lobbing its Shadow Ball across the field the same instant Muk spat another spread of Sludge Bomb at it. Despite being a much larger projectile, Drifblim's Shadow Ball was torn to pieces by the numerous hits of the Sludge Bomb, the two moves mutually destroying each other over the field's centre circle in a violent burst of smoke.

"Not bad, not bad," comment Fraser, impressed by Muk's power. "But! Let's see you try and defend against this! Drifblim, use Charge Beam!" he ordered, that same smirk working its way back as Drifblim floated down to the ground.

"That thing knows Charge Beam?" Ash wondered aloud, watching as Drifblim formed a crackling yellow orb of electricity between its front flippers. The orb continued to grow as Drifblim invested more and more power into the attack, soon looking like a palette-swapped version of its Shadow Ball. Sparks arced across the surface like solar flares, reflected in the eyes of the crowd and the metal of the stadium wall as Drifblim moved to fire.

"Acid Armor!" Ash yelled the moment Drifblim discharged the attack. An enormous jet of electricity surged over the field at lightning pace, spearing through air that had barely a split second ago been Muk's head. But the Poison-type had liquefied itself, leaving the attack to fizzle harmlessly into the wall over Ash's left shoulder. Dropping his gaze, Ash saw that the tall grass completely obscured Muk from view, although the circle of dead grass was a bit of a giveaway as to where it was.

"_Muuuk muuhhh?" _it grumbled.

"Great idea!" Ash grinned, his eyes darting back to Fraser and Drifblim, both of whom were looking around for where Muk had disappeared to. "Spread out and fire when ready!"

"Just what are you having your Muk do?" asked Fraser, narrowing his eyes at Ash.

"Testing your intuition," Ash replied, hiding a grin as he spotted a disturbance in the field out of the corner of his eye. He had no intention whatsoever of revealing his plan to Fraser, especially not at such a crucial stage in the contest as this. "But I gotta hand it to you, your Drifblim sure packs a punch! I could feel that Charge Beam from here!"

"Well thanks for that Ash, but flattery won't get you anywhere in a battle," he chuckled, waving off the praise with all the bravado of a veteran superstar. "So how's about you let your—?"

"_MUUUUHH!"_

"What the—?"

Muk burst out of the ground like a trapdoor spider ten feet from Drifblim, rearing up to its full height and opening its mouth so wide it could almost swallow the Blimp Pokémon whole. A guttural grumble echoed from the depths of the Poison-type, and Fraser only had enough time for a hasty shout of "Stockpile!" before Muk let loose with its biggest Sludge Bomb yet, pelting Drifblim's surface with volley after volley of poison bombs, each one exploding on contact and pushing the Ghost-type back.

An ear-splitting scream crashed down upon Ash's ears from the crowd, who rose up as one to applaud the move as it obscured Drifblim behind an ever-expanding cloud of smog. Quickly recovering from a reflexive flinch, Ash joined them in cheering Muk on as it continued to lay waste to – or rather, _on _– its opponent with a blistering hail of sludge.

It took a good fifteen seconds for Muk to let up on its barrage, and by the time it had, there was a giant cloud of swirling smoke where Drifblim used to be. Ash signalled for Muk to return to his side of the field, and the Poison-type obeyed, strangling more of the grass as it slid across the now half-dead field.

"Lemme know you're okay in there, Drifblim!" Fraser told the cloud. A few moments passed before he got a response, in the form of a whirling wind current blowing the cloud apart from the inside-out. The fans drew their collective breath as the smoke dissipated, revealing a for the most part unharmed Drifblim. But even from where he was standing, Ash could see that Drifblim's face now bore a close similarity to the moon; littered with pockmarks and small impact craters.

Ash took heart from the damage Muk was inflicting, although his years of experience told him that Drifblim was slowly grinding its way on top with Stockpile. As he tried to think of a strategy to circumvent Stockpile's defensive applications, Fraser launched into action, sparing him the effort.

"Shadow Ball!" he cried, his tone betraying his slight frustration at having not landed a hit thus far. Drifblim cupped its front flippers together and quickly charged another spinning blob of ghostly energy, flinging it forwards with terrifying speed that caught Ash off-guard. He tried to think of a counterattack, but his mind and mouth both locked up at the moment, still focused on bypassing Drifblim's use of Stockpile.

"Muk!" was all he managed to choke out as the Shadow Ball zoomed towards Muk.

Rather than take the attack lying down, Muk did what its trainer normally did best. It improvised. Waiting for right moment to make its move, Muk kept its small eyes trained on the Shadow Ball. Once the right moment was at hand, Muk made use of its enormous mouth, opening wide and swallowing the attack.

"WHAT?" Fraser shrieked, his voice cracking, but the surprises didn't stop there. A noise like a mix of thunder and an upset stomach echoed through the air as Muk began convulsing on the field. Ash took a worried step forwards, but his anxiety was misplaced. With a roar Muk opened its mouth again and regurgitated the Shadow Ball. Only this time, it was coated in a thick layer of toxic sludge, drops sloughing off the orb as it raced towards Drifblim and burning acrid holes in the grassy field.

"Drifblim, shoot it down with Spit Up!" shouted a panicking Fraser.

Pulsing with a dull white light that intensified with every passing instant, Drifblim opened its tiny beaked mouth and charged a small white sphere in front of it, eyes never leave the incoming missile. The mammoth shape of Muk's retaliatory Gunk Shot bore down upon it, but Drifblim loosed the Spit Up when Muk's attack reached the peak of its trajectory.

The sphere exploded into a colossal beam of destructive white energy, piercing straight through the Gunk Shot and detonating it mid-flight. The toxic orb imploded in on itself the moment the Spit Up touched it, bursting outwards like a purple star going nova. Sludge, smoke and pieces of Shadow Ball rained down on the field, littering it with rubbish, but Drifblim still had plenty of power left, and redirected the attack like it were a laser beam, bringing it to bear on Muk itself and prompting Ash to dive to the ground as the beam swivelled closer.

Muk gave an anguished bellow as the beam burned at its body, instinctively liquefying itself to escape the worst of the attack's power with its Acid Armor technique. Fortuitously, Drifblim had exhausted most of its stockpiled power by that point, and the beam quickly dissolved into nothingness, leaving no evidence of its usage except for one huge smoking hole in the boundary wall. And possibly a few traumatised fans who were forced to evacuate their seats as Drifblim's attack treated the stands like a stick of butter.

"Wow, what a powerful attack!" breathed Ash, only now peering out from over his forearms to check the aftermath of Drifblim's assault. A massive trench easily twenty feet deep had been carved into the left side of the field, even continuing up to the stadium's back wall. "Muk?" he yelled to the field, picking himself up and scanning the debris for a recent sign of Muk's poisonous touch.

"_Muuhhh…_" mumbled a muffled voice near the trench, catching the attention of Ash and Fraser. Both trainers looked on in amazement as Muk reformed itself, but Ash was shocked to see the horrible scorch mark covering Muk's back on account of the Spit Up beam.

"Muk…" Ash muttered, astounded at how Muk was still fighting with an injury like that. As if sensing its trainer's amazement, Muk roiled back to Ash's side, giving him a toothless grin that could only mean one thing; _I got this. _Ash laughed. "Yeah, you do. Now whaddaya say we finish this battle?" he asked, Muk nodding its shapeless head and turning back to face Drifblim. The Ghost-type was panting heavily after the Spit Up, having poured an incredible amount of energy into the attack.

"Drifblim, let's end things with a Shadow Ball!" Fraser instructed, knowing that both Drifblim and Muk were on their last legs. On command, Drifblim began charging up its attack, a slow process on account of its numerous injuries and fatigue.

"Muk, let's try one last Sludge Bomb, but hold onto it for the moment! I've got an idea!" Ash told his Pokémon. Muk nodded dutifully and prepped a Sludge Bomb for whatever Ash was planning, trusting its trainer to come up with the right move. Ash waited with his breath in his throat as Drifblim continued to charge its attack, the Shadow Ball slowly growing in size. _Come on… _he thought, for the first time willing an opponent to ready its final attack.

"Fire!" Ash yelled suddenly, catching everyone by surprise.

Muk roared and fired a single, bullet-like Sludge Bomb pellet across the field. Drifblim moved to fire the Shadow Ball, but in its weakened state was too slow, and the Sludge Bomb struck the attack dead on, rippling across its surface and detonating the orb whilst it was still in Drifblim's grasp. The Shadow Ball exploded into its creator with a sound like cannon-fire, knocking the defenceless Pokémon out of the sky. Drifblim trailed smoke as it crashed into the ground, barely landing Ash's side of the centre circle and moving no more.

The crowd descended once again into rapturous applause at the move, stamping and whistling and screaming themselves hoarse. The referee needed no convincing as to Drifblim's current state of consciousness, flicking her flag out of her holster.

"Drifblim is unable—!" she began, but she stopped mid-sentence and lowered her half-raised flag as Drifblim began to shine with a dull light.

"What's going on?" Ash wondered as the light began to strengthen. Then he noticed that Drifblim seemed to be… inflating. Just like when it had used Stockpile, Drifblim's form swelled to accompany the intense light pouring out from its body, and Fraser took a few cautious steps back as his Pokémon began to bulge in odd places, straining at the seams, almost like it was about to—

"GET DOWN!" Ash bellowed to Muk, diving for cover once again as Drifblim's Aftermath ability activated.

* * *

><p><em>Another week, another chapter. And a potential cliffhanger at that, too! Darn, I'm good…<em>

_Many thanks to everyone who read the last chapter, but since they had a unique input, special thanks to the anonymous "lightningblade49" for being the only person to review it. Also, thumps up, LB, for picking that Ash would use Muk in this battle! Some serious Sherlocking going on with you, my good man, even if you can't go three-for-three at the moment._

_Props to anyone who can guess Ash's third choice for this battle, because I'd be as surprised as last time if you got it! But I'm also a good sport._

_Chapter 13 – Stars Of Light, which will see the action continue on from Ash's battle with Fraser, will be released exactly as planned, on the 25th, also known down here as Australia Day Eve. Because we're all just so patriotic and such. Hopefully it's at least as good as this chapter, if not better. I am to please, after all._

_As always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	14. Stars Of Light

**CHAPTER 13 – STARS OF LIGHT**

With a deafening roar, the blinding white form of Fraser's Drifblim erupted, an immense shockwave of light, heat and sound exploding outwards from its body in all directions. Tearing at the grass, the heavens, and the crowd all around it like an immortal demon freed from a millennium of sleep, the shockwave incinerated everything it touched, setting the very earth on fire as it swept over everything in its path. Nothing was spared in the split-second demolition, Drifblim's Aftermath ability reducing what was left of the grass field to a smouldering ruin in the blink of an eye.

Daring to poke his head out from the safety of his forearms, Ash braved a look at the destroyed field. His ears were ringing with the noise of the blast, and a loose coating of dust fell off his arms as he shifted them to get a better look. The scene before him was one of complete devastation. The explosion had eradicated every last shred of life from the once-grassy field. The shades of green and purple had been replaced with a blanket of dark grey ash. Spot fires provided the only acknowledgeable source of colour, the flickering orange flames a powerful reminder of the strength behind Drifblim's fail-deadly.

Ash was somewhat speechless at the chaotic field. He shook his head to try and dispel the ringing, and sent more of his namesake cascading to the scorched earth. Shakily, he regained his feet. As his eyes took in even more of the barren ground, they caught sight of some movement, darting over Drifblim's blackened body to see Fraser brushing a loose coating of dust off his sleeves.

Oblivious to the two trainers, the referee thrust both flags into the air. The crowd finally drew breath, a surprised gasp at her silent declaration. All it had taken was a sweeping glance of the field for her to deduce that neither Pokémon would get up. Muk wasn't even visible, presumably buried amongst the powderous debris. It's not like it was moving anyways.

"Both Drifblim and Muk are unable to battle!" she announced as Ash frantically searched the field for a sign – any sign – that Muk had retained consciousness.

"Hey not so fast!" he challenged loudly, even surprising himself at the audacity with which he was disputing the referee. Shocked whispers ran through the crowd like wildfire as the referee turned to Ash with contempt written across her face.

"Your Pokémon has not risen to continue the battle, Mr. Ketchum," she sneered, jabbing the red flag towards the field. "Therefore I have no choice but to declare this match a draw, and neither you nor Mr. Dent will receive—"

"_Muuu…"_

Were it not so quiet on account of the crowd's attentive silence, the noise would've been little more than a teardrop in a river. But it was just loud enough to capture the attention of the referee and freeze her mid-sentence. It drew her eyes and those of everyone one else present in the stadium towards it.

Then everyone saw the smallest of movements, halfway between Ash and the unconscious Drifblim. A shuffle in the grey blanket smothering the ground. A clump of ash shook and tumbled to the ground, revealing a black scorch mark. More shaking, and more of the loose grey dust fell away, the black patch growing until it reached the size of a computer screen.

"_Muuuh…!"_

"Muk?" Ash yelped, craning his head for a better look. The black mass twitched. At first, it looked like little more than a pebble tipping over. Then its surface began to ripple. Like a gentle fountain, it surged upwards, until it took shape like a breaking wave. A clenched fist formed out of the debris, straining skyward in the ultimate symbol of defiance and survival.

"_Muuhhhhkk!" _rumbled Muk, shaking the last of the ashes of its body to reveal itself to the crowd. Burnt completely black by the explosion of Drifblim's Aftermath, its eyes were screwed shut, mouth closed in an expression of grit, but Muk was still conscious, and its stance sent the crowd into hysterics.

"See, Muk's still good to go!" Ash told the referee, doing his best to keep his smugness from showing. She wasn't convinced.

"The rules state that any Pokémon that does not rise within a minute of an attack is declared unable to battle," she countered, an avalanche of boos and jeers falling upon her stubborn but uninterested ears.

"How would you know? You didn't even check your watch!" he said, desperate to overturn the decision. He wasn't even concerned about potentially being penalised for his outburst. If he didn't win this point right now, it was lights out for his tournament chances anyways.

"Give him the point, ref," Fraser interjected. Both Ash and the referee whirled around to see Fraser standing with his arms folded, his expression anything but amused. He was tapping his own watch with his opposite hand. "It took Muk fifty-four seconds to recover from Aftermath, and by your own admission that means it can't be declared unable to battle under the rulebook," he elaborated, tired of the biased argument. There was no way Ash was going to convince her. Not with her temper.

A nerve ticked in the referee's jaw in light of the new evidence. Nonetheless, and with the utmost reluctance at having been overruled by proper protocol, she raised her red flag and waved it in Ash's direction.

"Muk is still able to battle! Therefore Muk is the winner and Mr. Ketchum receives one point!" she said, trying to maintain her professionalism.

Rather than push the issue, Ash merely nodded and recalled Muk as the crowd voiced the pleasure at the decision. "You did great, Muk. Rest up for now while we get this last point, okay?" he said as his successful Pokémon joined Noctowl and the others on his belt.

Having finally gotten a taste of victory in the tournament, Ash had to admit that it felt a little liberating. He was on the board, on equal points with Fraser at the moment, both having claimed their solitary point in the last half an hour. He wasn't the only one aware of the match hanging in the balance; the crowd was salivating in their seats at the prospect of this final and decisive battle. Whoever lost this battle was essentially out of the tournament, and Ash would do everything he could to make sure that person wasn't him.

And unlike his match against Ari, he was now in with a shot to grab that all-important bonus point heading into the last battle, well aware of what it would mean for his chances.

He also had the crucial advantage of not having to send out his Pokémon first.

"Mr. Dent?" pressed the referee, growing impatient as Fraser pored over his four remaining options. After a few more seconds of careful deliberation, the well-dressed man nodded to himself and made his choice, flicking it into the air for everyone to see.

"Bastiodon, pull out the win!"

The field's dark coating of ash absorbed most of the PokéBall's flash, but it was punished for its crimes a moment later when the massive shape of Fraser's Bastiodon crashed onto the field. Landing with a muffled _thump_, the impact sent a nervous tremor through the stadium as the evolved fossil sank down a good three inches, the grey snow doing nothing to soften its arrival. The Rock-type's shieldlike face glinted under the sun's withering glare, a reflection of how polished and sturdy its dominant defence was.

"_Dohhhhn!" _growled the Shield Pokémon, stoking the ground with its front legs as it waited eagerly for Ash to send out its opponent.

"A Bastiodon, eh?" said Ash, perfectly happy with Fraser's choice. He'd battled a Bastiodon before, at the hands of the Canalave Gym Leader, Byron, so he knew how to deal with them. Didn't make the task an easy one, though. He knew he'd need some serious firepower to crack Bastiodon's impressive defenses. Thankfully, he had just the ticket waiting on his belt for such an occasion. He'd been expecting a defensive Pokémon ever since his talk with Ari.

Snaring the first ball on his belt, Ash ripped it from the fabric and hurled it skywards with a cry of, "Sceptile, let's go!"

One mirroring flash later and Ash's Sceptile dropped lightly onto the field. A look of mild disgust instantly jumped onto its face at the sight of the charred battlefield, having sensed that it once used to be vibrant with its fellow plant life. Producing a customary twig from its tail, Sceptile popped the twig into its mouth and stared down Bastiodon. It flexed its sharp claws and swished its bush tail across the ground, carving a cross-hatch into the ash as its bulbs lit up in sequence to photosynthesise.

Fraser frowned as the Forest Pokémon glared at Bastiodon. He'd heard rumours of its exploits in the Sinnoh League, being the only Pokémon out of dozens to have knocked out Tobias' Darkrai. Highly agile, extremely powerful, and always a threat with its Overgrow ability, Sceptile was a Pokémon that would require cunning to defeat, rather than brute force. Fraser knew that Bastiodon's defenses would be a match for Sceptile's offensive prowess, but the question that nagged away at him was whether defense would be enough to come out on top and keep him in the tournament.

He was about to find out.

"The final battle in this match will be Bastiodon versus Sceptile! One point will go to the winner of this battle, and that person will also receive the bonus point for winning the match! In the event of a tie, neither trainer will receive any points!" declared the referee, reciting the rules for both trainers. She silently looked between both trainers for confirmation, getting a pair of accepting nods in return.

Swinging her flags up for what she hoped would be the last time, she announced, to the joy of the five thousand fans packed into the stadium and the accompanying _ding _of the starting bell, "Begin!"

"Bastiodon—!" Fraser yelled, wanting to start the battle off on the right foot, "use Ancientpower!"

Bastiodon dug its feet into the hard earth, snapping its jaws open and charging a spinning ball of lustrous energy in front of its mouth. With a sweeping arm from Fraser and an order of "Fire!" Bastiodon reared up and brought its front legs crashing down again, using the momentum to forcefully propel the orb across the field.

"Sceptile, wait for it to get close, then cut it down with Leaf Blade!" Ash instructed.

Sceptile twitched its head in understanding and held an arm across its chest. The jagged protruding leaf quickly became bathed in green light, and Sceptile held that position with fearless determination as Bastiodon's Ancientpower threatened to mow it down. When the attack came within ten feet of Sceptile it lithely spun to the side, treating the Ancientpower like a matador would a bull and leaving the orb to plough recklessly through the open air.

A smirk stretching from ear to ear as it sailed past, Sceptile brought its glowing arm over its head and straight down through the Ancientpower. Like a samurai sword through a watermelon, Sceptile's Leaf Blade cleanly bisected the attack and left Sceptile completely unharmed. With nothing holding it together, the orb collapsed in on itself, exploding harmlessly behind Sceptile in a sparkling shower of particles.

"Great work, Sceptile!" Ash cheered, punching the air with a fist. "Now follow through with a Bullet Seed!"

Not missing a beat, Sceptile leapt into action, spraying a spread of glowing missiles across the field. They bombarded Bastiodon's tough carapace with masterful marksmanship, but the Steel-type unflinchingly held firm, deflecting the bullets into the ground with a flick of its head. The Bullet Seed ripped through the ash blanket like it wasn't even there, exploding against the ground and scattering debris up from Bastiodon's feet.

But neither the Bullet Seed nor the chunks of debris had done anything to their target. Bastiodon merely leered at Sceptile, its vast, edificial face betraying no indicators of pain or discomfort.

"It's gonna take a lot more than that to even put a dent in Bastiodon!" Fraser grinned. Sceptile narrowed its eyes at the man, a malicious scowl replacing its surprise at Bastiodon's stalwart effort, but Fraser simply laughed it off. "Sceptile, you need to chill out! Bastiodon, use Ice Beam!"

"You're kidding me!" Ash cried, his mouth falling open in surprise to mirror Bastiodon's action, only he wasn't firing a bolt of cold blue towards anything. "Dodge it with Quick Attack!" he blurted out, his mind moving quicker and recovering faster than his mouth.

To his relief, Sceptile easily sped away from the Ice Beam, a coma of white light trailing behind it as the attack crackled past its tail and speared into the ground. A sound like splitting timber erupted upwards as the wayward attack trapped the burnt grass remnants under a layer of thick ice, but Ash paid no attention to it as he ordered Sceptile forwards.

"Use that Quick Attack to get close enough for a Leaf Blade!" he said, drawing some confused murmurs from the crowd. His order made little sense since Bastiodon could easily repel just about any frontal attack, the more likely outcome being Sceptile hurting itself on Bastiodon's iron-hard faceplate. Its trust in its trainer unwavering, Sceptile raced towards Bastiodon, its progress only marginally hampered by the loose coating of ash on the field.

Unlike the crowd, Fraser caught on to what Ash was planning, and decided to give him no chance to pull it off. "Bastiodon, more Ice Beams! Don't let Sceptile get anywhere near melee range!"

Bastiodon nodded its vast head and entrenched its rear legs in the soft ground as best it could, using them to brace itself as it launched a blistering barrage of Ice Beams across the field. Sceptile barely had enough time to sidestep the first beam, changing course with its Quick Attack and streaking out to Bastiodon's left. But the Steel-type's reflexes were more than a match for Sceptile's incredible ground speed, and to prove it Bastiodon twisted like a turret to keep track of its foe.

No matter which way Sceptile moved, weaving between blue bolt after blue bolt, it just couldn't seem to get close enough to Bastiodon to land a hit. The Shield Pokémon's Ice Beams were coming out too rapidly to give Sceptile a window of opportunity with which to attack, and they were too accurate to even let it do anything other than keep itself from getting struck.

This was all part of Fraser's strategy, however, and before a minute had passed, his tactics paid off. Tired by the constant running and overuse of its agility, Sceptile stumbled through a deeper pile of ash than usual. Its handy footwork undone, the Forest Pokémon crashed to the ground, sending a spray of grey dust into the air that was immediately captured by one of Bastiodon's deadly Ice Beams. The technique froze the ash and the air around it into a spindly cage of ice, pinning Sceptile to the ground.

"Sceptile, no!"

"Iron Head!"

Bastiodon leapt forwards without hesitation, growling like an angry bear as it charged towards the struggling Sceptile. Cloaked in a white aura that gave it the appearance of an incoming comet, Bastiodon streaked through the ash with ease, its gigantic face making an effective snow-plough that pushed the restrictive dust to the side. Sceptile valiantly hacked at its icy prison with its claws, but without the aid of its arm blades, it couldn't free itself in time.

The prism shattered into a million glittering pieces as Bastiodon stampeded through, smashing into Sceptile with the force of a bulldozer. Sceptile was flattened against Bastiodon's large head as it skidded to a stop, the Grass-type tumbling into the ash at Bastiodon's feet.

"Alright Bastiodon! Let's bring the house down!" Fraser shouted.

"Sceptile, get out of there!" Ash yelled, fearful for what Bastiodon was about to do. However, Sceptile either didn't hear him, or couldn't get away. With a mighty effort, Bastiodon reared up onto its hind legs, looking like a dog begging for a treat before bringing the full weight of its body crashing down, letting gravity empower it and driving its front legs into Sceptile's chest.

If Sceptile could've screamed, it would've burst the eardrums of every person in the stadium. But Bastiodon's improvised Stomp had driven all the wind from its body. Sceptile struggled violently to try and free itself, but Bastiodon refused to budge, continuing to press its weight down on Sceptile's frail form. Sceptile lashed at Bastiodon with a pair of Leaf Blade attacks as its body was crushed under Bastiodon's weight. The first clanged harmlessly into Bastiodon's impenetrable faceplate and sent a flare of pain through Sceptile's arm. The second met a similar fate, it too repelled by the Steel-type's carapace.

The only difference between the two strikes was that when the second Leaf Blade bounced off, it snuck through the gap between Bastiodon's faceplate and left front-leg shield.

It was Bastiodon's turn to shriek in pain as Sceptile's Leaf Blade raked at the soft, unprotected patch of hide directly behind its faceplate. In a sheer reflex reaction, Bastiodon jumped back, freeing Sceptile in an attempt to get away from the Grass-type's blades. It was by not at all used to being struck in that spot, something that made the pain only that much worse as the cut dripped blood onto the ash.

Down in front of it, Sceptile continued to writhe in agony, forming a crude snow angel in the dust as it tried to overcome the pain. Ash got a glimpse of an enormous hoof-shaped bruise on Sceptile's front, and he glowered intensely at Bastiodon for having inflicted such a wound on his Pokémon. Across the field, Fraser was giving Sceptile the exact same treatment, sparing the Grass-type no compassion for the damage it had done to his Pokémon.

"Bastiodon, are you alright?" he yelled anxiously, trying to soothe his distraught Shield Pokémon. Bastiodon's eyes were screwed shut in pain much like Sceptile's, its injured front leg shaking from the shock of having been cut. Gradually, however, it blocked out the searing sensation, pushing past the pain for its trainer and focusing on Sceptile.

"How about you, Sceptile?" asked Ash as Sceptile finally managed to clamber to its knees and steady itself with an arm. It shot Bastiodon a look of intense hatred from under its brow, pulling its other arm away from its chest to show Bastiodon the battle scar it had forcibly branded it with. Drawing on its experience in harsh battles, Sceptile stood up tall again to the adulation of the crowd. "You good to go?" double-checked Ash, receiving a ginger nod from Sceptile, his Pokémon's eyes never leaving Bastiodon's.

"Bastiodon, Ancientpower!"

"Sceptile, Bullet Seed!"

Despite their injuries, both Pokémon reacted at once, each firing their attack across the field. Bastiodon's Ancientpower was several times the size of any of the Bullet Seeds, but the combined power of Sceptile's projectiles was enough to counteract the Rock-type attack. With a colossal bang and an explosion of smoke the two attacks met, destroying each other in a flash of bright light.

A few stray bullets managed to pierce through the resultant smoke cloud, falling just short of Bastiodon and exploding against its feet. Bastiodon gritted its teeth in pain as the explosions rocked against its fresh injury, twisting the proverbial knife and drawing more blood out onto the ash below.

"This is it, Sceptile! Charge up a SolarBeam!" shouted Ash, cupping his hands in front of his mouth to project his voice over that of the roaring crowd. Sceptile dropped to all fours, exposing as much of its back bulbs to the sun as it could. Like Christmas lights they all lit up and began absorbing the plentiful sunlight, Sceptile focusing the energy into a small golden orb in front of its open mouth.

Fraser knew full well that Bastiodon's Ancientpower couldn't compete with one of Sceptile's fully charged SolarBeams, and an Ice Beam would be too unwieldly, so he went with his next best option. "Bastiodon, charge Sceptile with an Iron Head! I know you can do it!"

Bolstered by the belief of its trainer and the fanatical crowd cheering its name, Bastiodon tentatively tested out its front left leg. A sharp twinge coursed through the limb, but it was weaker than anticipated. Fuelled on by its own belief now, Bastiodon gradually broke into a full-on sprint towards Sceptile as the latter continued charging its SolarBeam. A blazing white aura burst into existence around its hulking body, but Ash had other ideas for Bastiodon's fairy-tale finish.

"Fire the SolarBeam!" he cried. Sceptile grinned widely as it blasted an immense pillar of solar energy from its jaws, the SolarBeam cannoning into Bastiodon as the latter crossed the crater left by Drifblim in the last battle. A huge explosion sent dust, rock and heat scattering in all directions, obscuring Bastiodon from the view of the crowd, Ash, Sceptile and even Fraser. Ash jumped with delight at the direct hit. "Great shot, Sceptile!" he cheered.

"_DOOHHHHHN!" _thundered Bastiodon as it streaked through the cloud of debris, a determined fire roaring in its eyes. The crowd erupted with noise when it saw Bastiodon, the Shield Pokémon proving to be the immovable object it was made out to be.

"Dodge it!" screamed Ash when Bastiodon surged through.

Just like against Bastiodon's first Ancientpower, Sceptile swung itself to the side as Bastiodon's attack charged past, the Steel-type stampeding too quickly to change direction. With a flourishing twirl and a savage smirk Sceptile raked a glowing green forearm down Bastiodon's side. Once again the Grass-type connected with soft hide, and Bastiodon crumpled to the ground as the attack disabled a rear leg.

"Bastiodon, NO!" howled a horrified Fraser, his expression grim as Bastiodon tried and failed to regain its feet.

"Sceptile, finish Bastiodon off with one more Leaf Blade!" said Ash, victory at his fingertips. Sceptile nodded and leapt forwards again, but the moment its feet left the ground a dull orange light spread across the ground in front of Bastiodon. Knowing hesitation could cost Ash his spot in the tournament, Sceptile dropped down and swung its Leaf Blade towards Bastiodon's unprotected back.

With what remained of its strength, the Steel-type twisted around and fired its Hyper Beam.

Ash's yelp of shock was lost to the wind as an enormous spire of orange energy rocketed out of Bastiodon's mouth. In the split-second it had to react, Sceptile repositioned its Leaf Blade to take the brunt of the attack. A horrible screeching like steel chains being ground up emanated from the impact point as Sceptile's Leaf Blade buffered the Hyper Beam, funnelling it past Sceptile's sides and out into the open sky.

The beam's light temporarily dwarfed that of the sun, but the magnificent display was all for naught. Sceptile pushed through and slashed at Bastiodon with its outstretched, glowing arms, bringing the blades down on the great beast's back. But the attack didn't connect. Instead, Sceptile crashed into the ground as its blades swept through a red fog where Bastiodon used to be.

Ash stared dumbfounded at Fraser as the latter held a PokéBall at arms' length. "Why'd you recall Bastiodon?" he asked.

"Bastiodon was in enough pain as it was," Fraser answered unhappily. "If that last Leaf Blade had've connected, Bastiodon wouldn't be able to battle for a while. Besides," he added with a shrug, "you've earned this win more than I have. Take the two points."

"Fraser…" Ash muttered, completely thrown off by the trainer's selflessness. He wasn't the only one, either; the crowd had gone deathly silent at Fraser's decision to withdraw, and even the referee was looking at him like he was crazy. She didn't realise that she had to declare the result until an empty popcorn container hit her in the back of the head, courtesy of one of Ash's more vocal fans.

"Um, Mr. Dent has recalled Bastiodon, thus constituting a forfeit in this battle," she said, not masking her surprise. Ash recalled Sceptile upon hearing the result, knowing it made no difference. She cleared her throat and continued as both Ash and Fraser trudged through the debris to the centre of the field. "Therefore, Sceptile is the winner, and Mr. Ketchum receives a point! Also, since Mr. Ketchum won this match two battles to one, he will receive the bonus point!"

"Why?" was all Ash could manage to say as he shook hands with Fraser.

"I may be a competitive trainer, but I know my Pokémon's limits, and I can tell when a situation's hopeless," Fraser answered, giving Ash a reserved smile. "Just like how I can tell that my time in this tournament is pretty much over; I've only got one point from two battles."

"You've still got a chance to qualify for the next round, if everything falls right for you," Ash pointed out, but Fraser chuckled and shook his head.

"I know, but I'm a realist. There's no way I'm going to beat Ari three-nil," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'll just try to go out with a bang, I suppose!"

"Sounds like a good way to go," Ash smiled, nodding at the older trainer and wishing him his best. Fraser took it in good-spirits and nodded for Ash to go, presumably to prepare for his last battle later in the day. The two exchanged a last smile, then Ash turned to leave.

"Hey, Ash?"

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder to see that Fraser hadn't moved.

"Good luck against Hope," he said, his expression serious. "Because believe me, you're gonna need it."

Ash gave him a shallow nod. "Thanks for the tip," he said, waving farewell to Fraser and heading for the stadium exit as he mulled over the last few minutes. Buoyed on by his newfound hope in surviving to the next battle, Ash smiled to himself, making a mental note to pick Pikachu up from the Pokémon Center as he walked into the shade of the trainer tunnel.

* * *

><p><em>It's been far too long between drinks for this story, so I'll apologise profusely for that. But better late than never, am I right?<em>

_Many, many, many thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed Crown during the extended period between updates.  
><em>

_As it were, I can't make a concrete promise over when the next chapter will be released, but keep your eyes and ears peeled, both here and on tumblr, for any information. One of those'll always be host to the latest update date.  
><em>

_As always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~  
><em>


	15. Wallet, Watch, Keys

**CHAPTER 14 – WALLET, WATCH, KEYS**

After being notified by the security guard on his way out that his last battle wasn't until sundown, Ash found himself with a surprising amount of free time on his hands. He had close to six hours to prepare for his do-or-die clash against Hope at Stadium 13.

Currently, the Kanto native was leaning against the smooth steel of Stadium 11's outside wall, wondering just what he was going to do with all that spare time. He could train, but he didn't want his Pokémon to be tired going into the match. However, that presented the problem of his Pokémon not being conditioned for his match, and that was also a mistake he couldn't afford to make. He tried to make up his mind as his unfocused eyes watched hundreds of people pass by, ignoring all they saw.

_Bzzzt bzzzt!_

A sharp buzzing snapped Ash to attention. And of all places, it seemed to be coming from… his pants?

Giving the source of the buzzing an incredulous stare, he disbelievingly reached into his pants pocket. Sure enough, he found a small, vibrating device at the bottom, no larger than the hand he closed around it.

_I don't have a phone… _Ash frowned, plucking the device from his pocket. It was indeed a phone, and he flipped it over to see that someone was trying to call him. '_Incoming call: Anabel' _was depicted on the front's LCD display. Wondering how an earth he had a phone that had Anabel's number on caller ID, he answered.

"Anabel?" he asked tentatively.

"Who is this?" she replied, confusion and suspicion evident in her tone.

"Uh, this is Ash," he explained slowly. He was seriously out of his element.

"Ash?" she yelped, provoking a wince from Ash. "W-w-what are you doing with Ari's phone? Where is he?"

"I have no idea, actually," he said with a laugh. "Last time I saw him, I was heading off for my battle. He said he was going to go help you prepare for yours when he left. Why?"

"But… how did you get his phone…?"

Ash shrugged unhelpfully. "Beats me," he said, but something told him that wasn't what Anabel was looking for. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you're asking!" he added suddenly.

"I know you didn't; you're not that kind of person. It's just… Ari said he was going to help me prepare for my battle against… uh, my next battle, and he hasn't shown up yet. I'm a little – rather, _very _– worried about him, since it's really unlike him to not follow through on a promise like this…" she finished in a fluster, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm herself.

"I'm sure he's fine, even if he didn't show up," he reassured, not wanting Anabel to get upset. "Maybe he remembered he had a battle around the same as yours and went to prepare for it, instead?" he offered.

Anabel didn't answer for a long time, and the wait made Ash incredibly nervous. "Maybe that's it…" she muttered finally, but Ash knew she was far from convinced.

"Hey, from what I've seen of Ari, even if something's happened, he'll be perfectly fine. He's got some really powerful Pokémon with him and he's pretty smart, too. So don't worry about him; I'm sure he'll turn up for your battle, like he said," he rambled, hoping his words were helping to soothe the distressed Salon Maiden.

"Thanks, Ash," she said gratefully. This brought a smile to Ash's face, happy that he could help. Even if they hadn't seen each other for over a year, Ash still considered Anabel a good friend, and both his compassion and chivalrous nature always compelled him to come to people's aid, regardless of the nature of their distress.

Ash himself had to admit that none of this made any sense, though. A minute ago, he was minding his own business, then he finds of all things Ari's phone in his pocket. Before he could try to retrace his steps he sees Anabel calling him, and now he finds out that either Ari lied to him about helping Anabel, or he never made it to his training session with her. And to top it all off, Anabel sounded quite distraught over Ari's mysterious disappearing act, which in turn made Ash worried. Both for Ari, and Anabel.

"Hey," Anabel piped up suddenly, getting an idea and making Ash bring the phone back to his ear, "since you're in the area, why don't you swing by Stadium 18? I'm having my battle there in a few minutes and… yeah, I was hoping you could come along and watch," she rushed, her words tumbling over each other near the end.

"I don't see why not," Ash chuckled, pushing off Stadium 11 and looking around for a signpost that could help direct him. "My next battle's not until sundown, so it's not like I've got somewhere else to be. I'd be happy to tag along for your match."

"Great, great," Anabel said with a relieved sigh. "I'll see you there, then!"

"See you there, Anabel. Oh, and good luck with your match! I know you'll do great!" he grinned confidently, clicking the phone shut. "Well, that was somewhat convenient," he mused, staring at the silver phone with a questioning yet wondrous expression on his face. _Maybe I can give this to Anabel after the match so she can return it to Ari_, he thought, still clueless as to how he ended up with the phone in the first place. He could always ask Ari if he noticed the next time he saw him.

"I'm sure Pikachu could use the extra time in the Pokémon Center," he murmured to himself, finding a sign with Stadium 18 on the right-pointing arm.

He didn't feel particularly happy about the sudden schedule change, but he did honestly believe that the Pokémon he had used against Ari needed a longer recovery session than usual. Plus it'd give him a nice chance to catch up with Anabel. He hadn't seen or heard from her since he left the Battle Tower way back when he was challenging the Battle Frontier. Humming to himself, Ash turned right into the main street leading away from Stadium 11, keeping his eyes peeled for more directions to Anabel's match at Stadium 18.

* * *

><p>From her vantage point amongst the outer railings of Stadium 12, a black-clad woman shed her greatcoat and kept watch on the trainers milling around on the plaza far below. Taking a second to rummage through the coat's many pockets, she withdrew her trusty Zoom Lens and trained it on the ground. She wasn't worried about people spotting her so far up the stadium's wall, her position aided by the dominant shadows provided by the steel awning overhanging the rails. Before she could locate her target, however, a soft crackling erupted through her headset.<p>

"Are you fucking serious?" she cursed under her breath, ripping the Zoom Lens away and pressing a button on the side of her headset. A voice easily as irritated as hers rang through.

"Care to explain to me what the meaning of your little stunt yesterday was?"

"What stunt?" she asked, regarding the call as unimportant and putting her Zoom Lens back over her eyes. In truth, she knew exactly what Samsara was calling about. A no-doubt incredulous silence followed her question, but she paid absolutely no heed to it as she scanned the plaza below for something.

"Please refrain from patronising me with your false denials," Samsara replied, his voice dangerously quiet. Remille smirked. It took a lot to get him riled up like this. Then again, pissing people off was one of Remille's strong suits, something that made her such an infamous figure to those in the right circles.

"Give it a rest with the pleasantries," she said, still annoyed by his interfering call. She was having trouble relocating her target. It had disappeared whilst she'd had to answer.

"Once you tell me why on earth you found it necessary to make a scene like that last night," he growled.

"You'll be waiting a _long _time for an answer," she tittered, adjusting the Zoom Lens to get a focus on those on the plaza's far side, "because I still have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

"Russell Carter was admitted to hospital last night with a bullet wound through his hand!" he seethed, clearly making a grand effort to keep his voice both quiet and under control.

"You know, I'm amazed you'd be privy to information like that, considering the covert nature of his deployment here," Remille fired back smoothly, not missing a beat.

"I'm not," he replied simply. "But as per my assignment, it shouldn't be too much of a surprise to figure out that I can _make _myself privy to that kind of information. Which leads me back to my original question; _why did you shoot Carter?"_

"I didn't," she said, sticking to her story. _It's not like he has any idea about what's _really _going on here, anyways_, she thought, eyes glinting as she finally found the person she was looking for. Keeping her lens trained on them, she reached an arm into her coat and began searching for another device, brushing aside a purple-and-white sphere to find the right pocket.

"Do you have any idea how much you've jeopardised our operation here?" he asked, really beginning to lose patience with the black-haired woman.

"Why should it matter? If shit like this is going down, it's just more pressure on the International Police to keep things under control here," she answered coolly. "If the agents suddenly find their own lives in danger, they'll start getting paranoid over even the slightest detail. If it happens frequently enough, they'll start suspecting a mole within their own ranks trying to set them up for the slaughter. And when they present that window of opportunity…"

Remille trailed off, her thin fingers closing around an object hidden inside a fold in the back of the greatcoat. Without a sound, the rifle slid effortlessly from its concealed compartment after a gentle tug. Remille swung it out in front of her, dropped the bipod, and steadied it on the railing. Not giving Samsara a chance to object to her logic or her plan, she switched off her headset and aimed the rifle at the young boy she'd been tracking for the last two days.

Unbeknown to the boy, she peered through the scope and lined him up in the crosshairs, fiddling with a knob on the sightings to bring his head into focus. Resisting the urge to switch on the laser pointer mounted on the frame – something that had been bred into her after decades of wielding these kinds of weapons – she followed the boy's progress as he passed by Stadium 14. His dark hair seemed quite messy, like he'd woken up with a bad case of bed hair. It made sense for him to try and disguise it with his usual choice of hat.

The same crackling as before permeated her hearing, but she tuned it out. _I'm not going to listen to your bitching, Dorian, so you might as well stop trying, _she silently told the headset, willing the crackling to cease and desist. True to her notoriously mechanical efficiency, her eyes refused to stray from their vigil or be distracted by the persistent sound. Once the crackling stopped, she ripped the headset off and tossed it unceremoniously into her coat.

Then she waited.

For almost a full minute, the only movement within fifty feet of her was the steady, gentle rotation of her rifle as she tracked the boy to his destination; Stadium 18. _There we go… Good boy… _she thought as he walked inside, disappearing from view under the trademark steel arch. Satisfied with her quick reconnaissance, she took the rifle off the railing, folded the bipod up and stowed it back in her coat. _That'll give me at least an hour_…

A quick consultation of her wristwatch confirmed the opening in her schedule, and she threw her coat back over her shoulders. She was done with business here. A sharp whistle of hers bounced off the metal awning, and a Pokémon appeared behind her in a swirl of cold wind. Next moment, they were both gone.

* * *

><p><em>So it seems Remille's got her eyes on someone, but who? And how did Ash end up with Ari's phone?<em>

_I'm sure these questions and many more are burning away inside your heads, but as for the answers, I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait and see. Hopefully a few of you were attentive enough to pick up on the clues scattered throughout the chapters. Because I'm just a tricky bastard like that.  
><em>

_As a side note, I'm giving everyone who's ever read a Crown an internet high-five, since you guys (and gals) just pushed Crown over 10,000 hits during that last chapter. It's a small accomplishment in the grand scheme of things, but milestones are made to be celebrated. Give yourselves a pat on the back; you've earned it!  
><em>

"_Chapter 15 – Thunderous Inadvertence" will be released soon, and to make up for the shortness of this chapter here, it's going to feature another battle! And, for those of you playing at home, you may just find a familiar face hidden amongst the paragraphs. So I'll wish you happy hunting for when it gets posted._

_As always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~_


	16. Thunderous Inadvertence

**CHAPTER 15 – THUNDEROUS INADVERTENCE**

"Excuse me, excuse me!" Ash cried as he tried to shove his way through the crowded lobby of Stadium 18. The space had proved to be deceptively large, somehow being able to accommodate over a hundred people packed into it with little room to spare. And try as he might, Ash just couldn't find a way through to the stands. He wasn't the only one in a hurry to find a seat either. A trio of burly men accidentally – or otherwise, in Ash's opinion – barged into him as they rushed forwards to try and claim some of the last seats available.

"Geez, is Anabel facing a regional champion or something?" he wondered aloud, amazed at how popular this one match was turning out to be. Not even his match with Ari had a capacity attendance, and judging by the fans he'd seen on his way over, he and Ari were amongst the more supported trainers competing.

Someone bumped into Ash, knocking him forward a step before he rounded on them. "Watch where you're—!"

"Sorry!" said the person before he could finish. The voice belonged to an attractive girl with a heart-shaped face framed by wild maroon hair that just managed to tickle her bare shoulders. Despite looking a few years older than Ash, she was a lot shorter than him; the top of her head was level with his nose as she brushed past. A split-second glance downwards revealed a black wire-strap top that hung loosely over her slender frame, but she slinked out of view before Ash could process any more.

_At least she apologised, _said a voice in his head as the girl disappeared into the swarming crowd. Standing on tip-toe and craning his head to find a way to the field, he almost jumped a foot in the air when he felt something slip into his pocket.

"Relax, Ash, I'm just grabbing my phone," Ari drawled in Ash's ear, whipping his hand back out, lo and behold, with his phone clutched between his fingers. Ash whirled around so fast he made himself dizzy, seeing the Ecruteak trainer cracking under the effort to suppress a burst of laughter. "You're not my type, if that's what you were thinking," he added with a chuckle.

"When did you get here?" Ash scowled, his eyes instinctively flicking past Ari's shoulder when he saw a tall green figure out of the corner of his eye. The red horn atop its helmet-shaped head would've made it stand out anywhere, but it was impossible to miss in a space like this. "What's your Gallade doing here?" he asked, pointing at the Blade Pokémon.

"_Don't be alarmed, Mr. Ketchum," _Gallade said politely, preferring to use telepathy to communicate over the noise of the jostling crowd. "_I am simply here to ensure that we all find ourselves some seating for Anabel's match. Master Ari requested that I locate you so you could accompany us."_

"Since the match starts in a few minutes, whaddaya say we hurry up and grab those seats before the stadium completely fills up?" Ari suggested, waving a hand towards the almost indistinguishable – and completely choked – entrance to the field.

"I dunno…" Ash replied warily. "I don't think we'll be able to get past this crowd, let alone find two spare seats."

Ari grinned and clapped a hand on Ash's shoulder. "As usual, Ash, I'm _way _ahead of you," he said, jerking his head at Gallade.

"_I hope you're not averse to travelling via Teleport, Mr. Ketchum," _said the Blade Pokémon as it rested an arm against Ash's back. For a second, Ash's mind flashed back to the strange encounter he had with Strung and her Slowking earlier in the day.

_Maybe that only hurt because I wasn't expecting it, _he reasoned, giving Ari's Pokémon a shallow nod and bracing himself for the worst.

"_Might I suggest closing your eyes if you're squeamish with regards to Teleporting, Mr. Ketchum?" _advised Gallade, putting his other arm on his trainer and counting them in. Ash did what was suggested to him and shut his eyes, silently hoping this Teleport would be a lot less painful than the last.

"_Three… two… one…"_

_WHOOSH!_

Ash felt his body spinning like a Pokémon using Gyro Ball, and he resisted the urge to vomit as the sensation made his insides churn. But then the discomfort passed, and he could feel his body slowing until it finally came to a stop. Carefully, he opened his eyes, immediately throwing a hand up to shield them from the sun as he found himself in the stand's first tier and with a clear view of the field.

Relieved with the trip, Ash let out a nervous laugh, taking in the sights. A grand collage of colours dominated the majority of his view, the makeshift palette provided by the thousands upon thousands of fans packed into every available seat on the other side of the stadium. Below them was an immaculately maintained battlefield, covered with a blanket of finely trimmed grass that stretched from boundary wall to boundary wall. It looked like it had only been cured the day before, and there was still the faintest smell of mown grass in the air.

"So where are those seats you were talking about, Ari?" he pondered aloud to his accompanying Johto trainer.

"Front row, right in sight with the centre circle," Ari smirked as he recalled Gallade in a dull flash of red. Ash gave him an incredulous look at the fantastic seats he'd managed to score. "It helps when you know both the trainers."

"Lead the way, then!" Ash laughed, motioning for Ari to point them out to him. A chuckling Ari strode down the main isle bisecting the first tier with Ash following dutifully behind, stopping once he hit the railing mounted on the stadium wall. He made a sharp right turn, running his hand along the railing as he guided Ash to their empty, waiting seats. Or at least they would've been empty seats, were it not for the giant Electric-type sitting with folded arms across the pair of them.

"_Eelekvire eelek elevire!" _grumbled Ari's Electivire, throwing its hands up in the air when it noticed its trainer waiting for it to vacate his seat.

"I'll make it up to you with a hotdog after the battle; how does that sound?" Ari offered before Electivire could continue its complaining. After giving it a thought, the Thunderbolt Pokémon seemed happy with the offer, giving Ari a nod that prompted him to recall Electivire to its PokéBall. "Shall we?" he said to Ash, and the two of them dropped down into the seats.

"Man, these are some comfy seats!" Ash commented, pointing to the comparative luxury of the steel armrests.

"That they are," smiled Ari, flipping his phone open to get an update on the bracket standings. "Hey, good work on winning your match with Fraser!" he congratulated, giving Ash a deserved clap on the shoulder for his victory.

"Thanks, Ari!" said a contented Ash, checking over his shoulder for a drinks vendor. When he found one he held an arm up high to grab his attention, taking the liberty of purchasing a pair of drinks. "You got them last time, now it's my turn to pay you back for it," he told Ari as he tried to hand one to him.

"Wasn't going to complain," Ari laughed, propping it between his legs as his attention returned to the phone. "Okay then… that win puts you on three points, so you're still in third position. But you won the battle, so you're still in with a good shot to qualify for the next round," he surmised, pressing a few more buttons. A nosy Ash noticed that he was bringing up Anabel's bracket.

"How's Anabel doing in her bracket, by the way?" Ash inquired, gesturing to the table on the phone's display.

"She's doing pretty good," Ari said, handing Ash to phone so he could verify it himself. "She's second on the ladder at the moment, three points ahead of third and fourth, and they've all had two matches apiece. Since the match between the other two members of her bracket is being held at the same time as this one right now, we won't know if she got through until the end of this battle. But the only way she won't make it through is if both matches are whitewashes," he explained.

Even though Ash was focused on the rankings for Anabel's group, he still detected a trace amount of concern in Ari's words. And when he double-checked the phone, he saw why. Anabel was facing the bracket's leader, a trainer who had won his two matches in rather convincing fashion. Whereas Anabel was currently sitting on a modest four points after two-one and one-all results, he was flying with seven points, courtesy of three-nil and two-nil wins.

If Anabel received any points in this match she'd be through, but her opponent hadn't conceded a point in his first two matches, so he could see why Ari was a bit nervous. On the other hand, he knew Anabel was a powerful trainer, and she'd scored points in her other two matches, so the point was fairly moot anyways.

"Why are you worried about her opponent, Ari?" Ash asked with a frown, acting on his gut feeling. Ari's eyebrows flicked up in honest surprise as he turned to Ash, the latter pointing to the bracket's leader on the display. "What's so intimidating about this L—?"

Ash's words were crushed underfoot a tidal wave of cheering from the capacity crowd. People all around him rose as one to roar in delight as they, like Ash once he'd glanced back, saw a trainer walk out onto the freshly mown field. He and Ari joined the crowd in their highly vocal support when they saw that it was Anabel herself striding out.

Ari held his fingers against his mouth and gave a high-pitched, piercing whistle that drew her attention over the deafening din. A frantic wave and a wide smile on his face, the boy gave Ash a light nudge in the ribs, so Ash did the same, waving both arms in front of him in support of the lavender-haired Salon Maiden. Unless Ash's eyes were deceiving him, the faintest of pink tinges sprang onto her cheeks, and she gave them a polite, acknowledging wave of her own in return.

A lull in the crowd's noise levels prompted the pair of them to fall back into their seats as Anabel reached the centre circle. She seemed quite relaxed. Her hands were limp by her sides as she waited for her opponent to enter the battlefield, though she did cast another quick glance towards her two most vocal 'fans'. Maybe she was quietly nervous?

Quiet was a word evidently missing from the crowd's vocabulary, and they almost damaged Ash's eardrums when Anabel's opponent walked out. He was reasonably tall compared to the diminutive Anabel, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark, full-length pants. A sleeveless white shirt with an upturned collar was stretched across his athletic chest, making no attempt to hide his muscular arms as he raised them in appreciation of the applause being directed his way. His bright green eyes lit up at the reception and glinted under the sun as it beamed down from overhead.

Even though he had quite literally the best seat in the house, Ash had to crane his head forward to get a good look at the trainer. He looked to be in his late teens, and his hair gave Ash the impression that he was a bit of a hooligan. It was of an identical shade of plain brown as Ari's, but slowly faded into a dark, springy gold atop his head, lightening even further into a rich blonde at his spiked up fringe.

The crowd continued to chant for the trainer, even as he shook hands with Anabel and exchanged pleasantries. His height advantage was especially pronounced at such close quarters; Anabel's lavender locks barely reached his nose. They appeared to know each other, judging by how long they talked before they took their places at opposite ends of the field.

It was then, in those few moments when the referee explained the rules to the two trainers, that Ash noticed that Ari had gone very quiet. He turned to his newfound friend.

"Do you know him, Ari?" Ash queried, gesturing towards the popular man.

"Yeah I do, as a matter of fact," Ari said with a slight grimace, folding his arms when the referee told the male trainer to choose a Pokémon first. "His name's Leoric," he added, his calculating eyes whipping back and forth between them.

"Leoric?" repeated Ash, but before Ari could elaborate any further a bright flash drew their attentions. Leoric had chosen his first Pokémon, a small orange creature with an enormous head like a bear trap that made up most of its body. From his spot on the sideline, Ash could only make out one beady black eye on the side of the Pokémon's head, and its four tiny legs seemed incapable of holding its massive head off the ground. In fact, the Pokémon itself looked like an orange replica of a Scizor's claw mounted on a lump of dirt. The Pokémon opened its mouth in a gleeful smile, making chomping noises at Anabel.

"The heck?" Ari frowned, leaning forwards in his seat. "Why's he leading with Trapinch of all things?" he muttered to himself, instinctively checking on Anabel to see how she'd counter Leoric's choice.

It didn't take long for Anabel to make her counter-selection. Barely moments after Trapinch gave her a toothy smile upon release did she pick her own PokéBall and toss it onto the field. Following the customary burst of harsh white light, a Pokémon very familiar to Ash appeared on the field. It wasn't something he'd known Anabel to possess, but it was a Pokémon he'd shared the very beginning of his Pokémon journey with.

A Butterfree.

"The first battle of this match will be Trapinch versus Butterfree! Begin!" declared the referee, and the starting bell barely managed to overcome the rampant crowd with its usual _ding_ as both trainers leapt into action.

"Butterfree, let's start this battle off strong! Use Energy Ball!" Anabel ordered, wearing a look of complete concentration and determination. Mirroring its trainer's attitude, Butterfree quickly formed a pulsing ball of green energy in front of it, and with a twitch of its head sent the orb arcing over the field and straight towards Trapinch.

"Dodge it with Dig, Trapinch!" smirked Leoric. His voice was loud, boisterous and made no effort to hide his burgeoning cockiness.

Its head still split open in a happy smile, Trapinch used its vast lower jaw as a makeshift shovel, ripping through the grass and throwing earth aside at a frenetic pace. Butterfree's Energy Ball sailed dangerously close to Trapinch's head, but it was far enough underground for the attack to miss by a hair's breadth as Trapinch continued to dig. By the time the Energy Ball exploded and tore a chunk out of the field in front of Leoric, Trapinch had vanished from view, leaving a large hole and an even larger mountain of dirt behind.

Undeterred, Anabel marched onwards with a cry of, "Butterfree, fly over to that hole and fill it with Sleep Powder!"

On command Butterfree flew over the hole Trapinch had left, angling its large wings and giving them an almighty flap. A cloud of sparkling green spores detached themselves from the wings, floating gently down until Butterfree gave them a boost, thrusting its wings again to send them speeding into the cavity.

"Time to surface!" called Leoric, and with a soft rumbling his Ant Pit Pokémon reappeared, popping out of the ground ten feet in front of Anabel. Seeing its opponent occupied with the hole on the other side of the field, Trapinch yipped playfully, eager to continue the game of tag.

"Butterfree, turn around and use Psybeam!" said Anabel, motioning towards the nearby Ground-type as Butterfree whirled around. Its two antennae shone with all the hues of the rainbow before it fired an identically coloured beam at Trapinch. Instead of jumping straight back into its hole, Trapinch waddled to the side, dodging the attack by mere inches at it blasted into the ground, ripping up a chunk of the pristine grass.

"Keep it up, Butterfree! Keep firing at Trapinch!" Anabel encouraged, knowing that Trapinch were exceptionally slow Pokémon. It also helped that Butterfree had Compoundeyes as its natural ability, as shown when Butterfree took aim again. This time, the beam connected, though a last-second shift by Trapinch caused the rainbow projectile to strike it on the rear leg. With a bang Trapinch was sent airborne, tumbling through the air before landing on its feet near the left boundary wall.

"Good thing that big head of yours makes it easy to balance, eh Trapinch?" laughed Leoric, his legion of fans echoing his sentiments.

Anabel even joined in for a moment before sending Butterfree in to attack. "Hit it with Psybeam again, Butterfree!"

"Dig before it can fire, Trapinch!" responded Leoric. The Ant Pit Pokémon happily chomped its massive jaws in approval of the tactic, putting them to work in shovelling the ground aside as Butterfree launched another beam across the field. Thanks to the distance between them, Trapinch was safely underground before the Psybeam impacted, taking another divot out of the grass.

_Darn it… _Anabel muttered quietly. Rather than give Butterfree an order, she ran through the last few moves in her head to figure out a strategy. Coming to the conclusion that the best move was no move, she waited patiently for Trapinch's head to reappear. Then she'd have Butterfree attack.

"Back up here, Trapinch!" Leoric yelled.

The moment Trapinch's orange head reappeared near the right boundary, Leoric ordered Trapinch back underground amidst Anabel's order of "Energy Ball!"; he'd been expecting the move. Butterfree spun as quickly as it could and launched another shimmering green orb at the Ground-type, but its target had long since ducked back into its safe haven before the attack reached it. One Trapinch-less explosion of grass and dirt later, and Leoric's contingent of fans were jeering Anabel for her miss.

"Hey, quit booing her!" Ash yelled to the offending fans nearby. Before he could continue his rant, he felt a sharp tug on his shoulder. It was Ari, who was trying to direct his attention back to the match at hand. Casting the belligerent fans one last glare, he obeyed, turning back on the field to find Leoric taunting Anabel.

"I know you're fond of games, Anabel, so how's about a little game of whack-a-Trapinch?" Leoric sneered, drawing an irritated, narrow-eyed stare from the Salon Maiden. As the two locked eyes, Trapinch's huge head popped up for a third time, carving a fifth hole in the very centre of the field and completing the cross formation Leoric had been engineering since the battle's start.

_Psybeam! _Anabel said telepathically to her Butterfree.

With the element of surprise on its side, Butterfree tilted to the horizontal and shot another Psybeam, this time directly at this newest hole. But the moment its antennae began to glow with rainbow light, Trapinch ducked back inside, still making playful noises and treating the contest as little more than a game.

"Good hustle, Trapinch!" Leoric cheered, taking delight from Trapinch's quick reflexes. "Now it's time to hit them with a screen from underground! Use Rock Tomb!"

A series of muffled gouging noises drifted out of the five holes on the field, making the crowd lean forward in anticipation of Trapinch's next move. Anabel's eyes frantically darted between the pits, completely unsure as to which one Trapinch would pop out from next. "Butterfree, stay alert!" she warned her Pokémon, and soon Butterfree was mimicking its trainer's cautious behaviour, using its large eyes to keep track of as many holes as it could.

Alas, Trapinch didn't reappear on the field. Instead, a large boulder of compressed earth was flung out of the hole nearest Leoric. Spotting the missile out of the corner of its eye, Butterfree threw itself to the side, the boulder arcing through the empty space Butterfree had just been occupying. Anabel had to step to the side herself as the boulder flew past her shoulder, landing with a crunch against the boundary wall and breaking apart into dust.

Before she'd even turned around, however, a second boulder flew out of the centre hole, and Butterfree had to execute a tight sideways barrel roll to avoid it, the boulder missing the Bug-type's delicate wings by an inch. _This is bad! _Anabel thought, watching as the boulder reached the height of its trajectory and gave in to gravity.

"Butterfree, look out!" she cried as it bore back down on her Pokémon. Butterfree darted towards its trainer to dodge it, and Anabel was relieved to see that it hadn't wasted valuable time trying to chance a glance at the boulder.

As the boulder ploughed into the ground with an impact that sent a tremor through the field, Trapinch sent a third rocketing out of the hole in front of Anabel. Butterfree was much too slow on the uptake, and a feeble, surprised surge of its wings couldn't change its course fast enough. With a mixture of pained sighs and congratulatory cheering rising from the stands, the boulder crashed into Butterfree, knocking the Butterfly Pokémon clean out of the sky and bringing it to ground right next to the centre circle.

But that wasn't the worst of it for Anabel. The moment Butterfree's frail body hit the ground under the weight of the boulder, the projectile collapsed in on itself and buried the Bug-type under a pile of heavy dirt, trapping its wings in the rubble and giving it no chance for escape. Both Ash and Ari rose to their feet, gripping the rail with white knuckles and leaning over to yell words of support to Anabel.

"Great shot, Trapinch!" Leoric grinned as the Pokémon in question poked its head out of the centre hole, barely five feet from the struggling Butterfree. "Now latch onto it with Crunch!"

With a sound like two knives sharpening each other, Trapinch's colossal mouth split open. Anabel's breath caught in her throat as the Ant Pit Pokémon jumped forwards, landing on top of Butterfree's dirt prison and digging its jaws into the dirt.

"Butterfree!" she choked as Trapinch's mouth snapped shut like a bear trap, latching on to Butterfree's body and ripping it out of the tomb. Butterfree cried out in agony as it felt its body being crushed under the incredible power of Trapinch's jaws. Its large wings had been mercifully spared from the deadly embrace, and they flapped in vain to try and break Trapinch's grip.

The sight of Butterfree's unharmed wings gave Anabel a flicker of hope. An idea, albeit a desperate one. "Bug Buzz!" she shrieked.

_Good move! _Ari thought, his eyes along with everyone else's locked on the unfolding struggle.

Summoning the strength to shut out the intense pain washing over its small body, Butterfree churned its wings as fast as it could. Kicking up a gale force that sent the dust of its previous prison flying in all directions, Butterfree's wings began to emit a horrible droning sound that tore at the crowd's ears as much as the winds did. A series of powerful shockwaves followed as Butterfree's wings began to vibrate at sonic speed, each of the shockwaves crashing into Trapinch with the force of a speeding truck at such point-blank range.

Leoric started forwards in surprise at the move, knowing that Trapinch was taking a lot more damage from the Bug Buzz than Butterfree was from the Crunch. Not thinking about whether Anabel had planned this all along, he gave Trapinch its orders. "Trapinch, Hyper Beam!" he bellowed, his voice quickly lost beneath the sounds of the cheering crowd and Butterfree's assault.

"A Hyper Beam at that close range?" Ari yelled in disbelief, having only barely heard Leoric's order.

Trapinch also seemed to have heard its trainer, and a second later the ground around the pair of Pokémon was bathed in an intense orange light. A collective gasp as the crowd inhaled as one, before a huge explosion erupted into existence around the combatants, followed swiftly by a gargantuan pillar of light that speared out from the side of the explosion. Ash got a momentary glimpse of a winged shape being propelled on the back of the beam before they both slammed into the boundary wall on Anabel's left, the beam giving rise to a second explosion that left little to the imagination.

"Butterfree!" cried Anabel and Ash as the Butterfly Pokémon fluttered to the ground in a smoking heap.

"Butterfree is unable to battle! Trapinch is the winner! Mr. Reiger receives one point!" announced the referee with an upwards thrust of his red flag. An ear-splitting boom of cheering thundered into the back of Ash's ears as the crowd celebrated Leoric's victory.

"Alright!" said Leoric, punching the air with a fist and smiling as his Ant Pit Pokémon made its way back to him. Overjoyed by its success, Trapinch leapt at Leoric and tried to clamp its jaws down on his head, but Leoric managed to catch it and keep it arm's length as it happily chomped away at empty air. "How's about a quick break?" he laughed, recalling Trapinch in a smoky haze of red light.

Meanwhile, Anabel had dashed over to the boundary wall where her Butterfree lay, crouching down next to motionless Pokémon and resting a tender hand on its head. "You did great, Butterfree," she sighed apologetically, pained by the dramatic loss. She gently tapped Butterfree's PokéBall against its head and recalled it before standing straight and walking back to her trainer's box.

Aware that she was required to send out a Pokémon first, Anabel put a smile back on her face and picked a PokéBall. "Clefable, my friend, let's go!" she called out, and in a flash the robust shape of her Fairy Pokémon appeared, Clefable slowly drifting down to ground to a chorus of entranced sighs from the audience.

"Bad choice," Ari winced, slinking down a fraction in his seat as all eyes turned to Leoric. He knew exactly what Leoric was going to send out to counter Clefable, and he really didn't fancy Anabel's chances of pulling off an upset win against it.

Sure enough, Ari's prediction was an accurate one, and an arrogant smirk sprang onto Leoric's face. "Blaziken, prepare to charge!"

The crowd gave its loudest cheer yet as the Blaze Pokémon dropped onto the field amidst a flash of light, forcing Ash to clamp his hands over ears to block it out. The fearsome Pokémon towered above its opponent in Clefable, wreathing its wrists in fire and tensing its powerful legs as it waited for a chance to show off its strength.

"_Blaz_…" growled the Fire-type, flexing its claws in anticipation.

"—Blaziken versus Clefable!" the referee was saying, having to shout at the top of his lungs so the trainers could hear him. Blaziken was a clear fan favourite amongst the capacity crowd, and Ash got the dreaded feeling that he was about to find out why.

* * *

><p><em>As usual, a tasty little cliffhanger to leave you all waiting for the next chapter. Which, incidentally, will feature more of Anabel's battle against Leoric.<br>_

_While we're on the topic, Chapter 16 is titled "A Lilac Mercy", and will be released next Tuesday. So that's the 8th; mark it on your calendars, because you don't wanna miss it. And, as it were, I've got a little competition to run for these two chapters; "Thunderous Inadvertence" and "A Lilac Mercy". The two chapter names are mighty peculiar, no? That's because they're both allusion to a certain game series. And whoever can name the series in question will win themselves... a gift fic!  
><em>

_Although the gift-fic will be a one-shot limited to the Pokémon fandom, you can ask for practically anything you like! The reason I say practically is because there are a few lines in the sand, as it were, those being furry fics (I have nothing against furries myself, it's just not my style), requests for blatant OOC (again, style~), and the ever-dreaded trollfic. Aside from that, though, if you win this competition, feel free to go nuts!  
><em>

_So if you've read and liked this chapter or any of the ones before it, or are simply looking to try and score yourself that gift-fic, send in a review with your thoughts! They're all much appreciated, and you can be safe with the knowledge they're going to a good home.  
><em>

_And, as always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~  
><em>


	17. A Lilac Mercy

**CHAPTER 16 – A LILAC MERCY**

_DING!_

"Blaziken, use Flamethrower!" Leoric ordered, throwing his arm forwards. With the roaring crowd behind it, Blaziken loosed a spire of scorching flames from its mouth, the tremendous heat of the attack igniting the short grass in a straight line to Clefable.

"Throw it away, Clefable! Psychic!" was Anabel's response, and her Fairy Pokémon sheathed itself in a shimmering blue aura. It held its hands out almost like it was about to try and catch the incoming stream of fire, and a moment later the same aura had encompassed the Flamethrower's front. Not to be denied an opening strike, Blaziken powered up the attack, forcing Clefable to resort to simply buffering the attack with a Psychic shield.

When the Flamethrower made contact with the shield, it speared off at a slight angle, deflected over Clefable's shoulder. The Normal-type winced as the roaring flames licked at its arm and face, but it was for the most part unharmed from Blaziken's powerful opening attack.

"Water Pulse!" Anabel yelled. She needed to get on the offensive as quickly as possible, so Blaziken wouldn't be able to get into a rhythm of attacking. Clefable cupped its tiny hands in front of its body, and a spinning ball of blue water appeared in the space. It quickly grew to the size of a rockmelon, and with a whoosh Clefable sent the ball rocketing across the field.

"Quick Attack," said Leoric, pretending to stifle a yawn. Blaziken sped off as fast as a lightning bolt, a communal gasp arising from the crowd as it disappeared from view. With no target, the Water Pulse simply crashed into the ground where Blaziken had been, exploding amidst a shower of dew and grass.

Ash started forwards in his seat out of surprise, almost hitting his teeth on the railing. "Wha… where did Blaziken go?" he stammered, comically checking between left and right in a vain attempt to establish the Fire-type's location. He just couldn't keep up. He turned to Ari, and to his utter amazement found the boy untroubled by Blaziken's speed. Ari's eyes were flicking back and forth across the field, somehow managing to keep track of Blaziken's every move. _How—?_

"Double Team, evasive formation!" Anabel fired, down on the field. With a graceful spin and a twirl, Clefable sent a shower of golden particles into the air. Its body distorted and fizzled in the air like a faulty hologram before it split apart into six identical figures, and at once the six fairies spread out, standing in arbitrarily random places on Anabel's side of the field.

"What's with the formation?" Ash asked, tilting his head towards Ari but not daring to take his eyes off the battle.

"She's playing the odds, making sure Blaziken can't hit more than two Clefable in one move," he explained concisely, drawing imaginary lines across the field with a finger. Indeed, no matter what path he made, at most there were two Fairy Pokémon standing on it. _At least she knows that she can't just put her Pokémon in a line and expect Leo to pick them off one by one…_

"Blaze Kick!" Leoric barked.

In a flash, a fireball materialised on the centre circle, rocketing towards Anabel at a terrifying pace. Without giving Anabel or the crowd any viable reaction time, the fireball speared straight through two Clefable off to Anabel's right. Both were clones, dissolving into the air. Neither Leoric nor Blaziken were disappointed in the result, and with good reason. The tremendous speed of Blaziken's failed attack had generated a massive sonic shockwave, which tore through the stadium like the breath of god in Blaziken's wake and knocked the rest of the Normal-types clean off their feet.

Three disappeared along with their fellow copies, but the real Clefable appeared unfazed by the sonic strike. Performing a lithe backflip in the air, Clefable managed to steady itself before hitting the ground, gently floating back down to earth. Up in the stands, Ash and Ari heaved a relieved sigh that Clefable hadn't been hurt by the attack. Ari knew that if Blaziken had landed a hit with its Blaze Kick, it would've put Anabel in a position she couldn't have recovered from.

A momentary lapse in Clefable's concentration revealed a grimace in its otherwise plain expression. Noticing it, Leoric took charge again.

"Blaziken, roast it with a Flamethrower!" he said, and his trusty Fire-type sent a second jet of fire blazing a mid-air trail straight for Clefable.

"Cancel it out with a Water Pulse, Clefable!" Anabel called out.

Clefable's hands were already moving when it heard Anabel's order, and within a second it had formed another large ball of spinning blue energy. As Blaziken's Flamethrower bore down on it, Clefable hurled the Water Pulse round-arm style, sending the orb racing forward to meet the jet. With a bang and a hiss of steam, Blaziken's Flamethrower evaporated the Water Pulse on contact, denying the Water-type attack the chance to reach Blaziken's side of the field.

Fortunately for Anabel, the Water Pulse had served its intended purpose, mutually annihilating the Flamethrower attack and leaving Clefable unharmed. She'd caused a chip in Blaziken's momentum, and now she had to capitalise on the shift. But she couldn't afford Leoric knowing about the move, until it was too late.

_Clefable, grab Blaziken with Psychic!_

A cunning glint sparking to life in its bright eyes, Clefable shrouded itself in that same vivid blue aura as before, and Leoric's irises dilated in surprise as he recognised the shroud. He desperately tried to shout an order to Blaziken, but his lips had barely parted before Clefable threw its arms to the side.

"Get out of there!" he yelled. Blaziken only had enough time to tense its legs before its own body was trapped within the same blue outline as Clefable, the Psychic attack completely immobilising it.

"You know what to do!" Anabel smirked, and her loyal fans rejoiced in the order, eager for Clefable to land a powerful blow against its opponent.

Mirroring its trainer's victorious expression, Clefable gave a light twitch of its hands, the crowd watching on as Blaziken rose unwillingly off the ground. The Blaze Pokémon struggled against the intangible bonds suppressing it, but even if it _could _break through, it had nothing to jump off. The immobilised Blaziken watched on as Clefable slowly closed its hand into a fist. The bonds around Blaziken tightened, like gradually being crushed under an ever-increasing mountain of soil from all directions. A pained cry caught in Blaziken's throat as Clefable squeezed down tighter.

Content with the strength of its attack, Clefable flicked its wrists, sending Blaziken rocketing across the field to a booming, communal cheer from the attending crowd. Blaziken crashed into the boundary wall with a loud _crunch_ and slid down onto the grassy field, an impressive dent in the metal wall above its head a testament to the force behind Clefable's powerful Psychic attack.

"Alright, Clefable! Hit it with a Water Pulse while it's down!" Anabel rallied.

"Blaziken, springboard manoeuvre!" countered Leoric.

A third sphere of water was already collecting between Clefable's hands as Blaziken's head jerked upwards. A feral smirk cracked onto the Blaze Pokémon's face as it planted its legs against the boundary wall, assuming a position like a sprinter ready to race. Anabel saw the change in stance out of the corner of her eye. It took her a second to realise what was about to happen, but when she did—

"Drop the Water Pulse, Clefable!" she screamed in the miniscule moment before Blaziken took off. The water ball hadn't even begun to fall before Blaziken pounced. The Fire-type streaked across the arena like a heat-seeking missile, swinging around and aiming a flame-sheathed leg straight for Clefable's face. "Defend with Meteor Mash!"

Clefable's top-notch reflexes were the only thing that kept it from being pulverised by Blaziken's sonic kick. The Normal-type threw a golden, shimmering arm forward in a powerful jab to meet the incoming bullet that was Blaziken, the two attacks clashing with the sound of shattering glass. Clefable's arm was knocked back by the sheer momentum of Blaziken's kick, snapping the limb back amidst a shower of sparkling stars, but the impact had done enough to stop Blaziken's charge. Blaziken was forced to drop one leg to the ground to steady itself.

Then the Blaze Pokémon pivoted on its grounded leg, taking barely a split second to complete a full revolution and swing a second devastating Blaze Kick into Clefable's jaw.

"Clefable!" shrieked a horrified Anabel as her Pokémon was sent skywards like it had been shot out of a cannon.

"Time for a meteor move, Blaziken! Sky Uppercut!" Leoric ordered, pointing to the ascending Fairy Pokémon. Blaziken stooped down low, and then launched itself after its hapless opponent, closing in on Clefable with terrifying speed. Twenty thousand eyes watched on as Blaziken caught up to Clefable as the latter began to give in to gravity. The two Pokémon seemed to hover at the tip of their trajectories for a long time, and it was only made the more painful for Anabel to watch as Blaziken cocked an arm back.

With a move that made even Leoric wince, Blaziken slammed a fist into Clefable's stomach. Clefable's eyes shot open as all the breath was driven out of its body, but they didn't see anything except the clear blue sky as it ferociously plummeted back the way it came. A sickening collision ensued between the Normal-type's soft body and the hard ground, and the ground split apart upon impact, obscuring Clefable from the two trainers as the crowd leapt to their feet. Leoric's Pokémon did the opposite, bending its legs to soften its landing just feet away from Clefable.

Only two bodies knew of the Fairy Pokémon's condition, and Blaziken raised a fiery fist high and in full view of the crowd as a token of its victory, whilst Anabel sighed and let her chin fall to her chest. The stifled screams of her Pokémon inside her head had been extinguished. She knew what it meant, but it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

Naturally, the referee had no such qualms about the battle's result. After craning his head to confirm it, he nodded at Leoric and raised his red flag for the second time in the match. "Clefable is unable to battle! Blaziken is the winner! Mr. Reiger receives one point! Also, as the overall winner of the match, he will receive this match's bonus point!"

"Go, Leo, go!" chanted a large portion of the crowd, punching the air as one as Blaziken was returned to its PokéBall after fist-bumping its trainer. Leoric gave them a grin and a few air punches of his own in recognition of the support.

"He really knows how to get the crowd on his side, doesn't he?" Ash mused aloud, knowing that Ari wouldn't be able to hear him over the din surrounding them. What he wasn't prepared for was the sight of Ari consulting his phone rather than watching the battle as he turned around. "Uh, what're you doing?"

"Phone got an alert," Ari grunted, frantically typing away at the keypad. "The bracket's other match just ended, so I'm checking the result to see if—gah! Son of a—!" He broke off mid-sentence with a loud and frustrated groan. Ash could've sworn he saw Ari punch his seat in anger.

"What's wrong?" he asked, shuffling back in his seat a fraction. He didn't know Ari particularly well, but somehow he could tell that this little outburst wasn't something Ari was prone to.

"The other match was a whitewash," answered Ari with a sharp frown. The boy shoved his phone back in his pocket and stood up. He grabbed the railing with one hand, leant over as far as he could and used his free hand to give a piercing whistle that screeched at Ash's ears like nails on a chalkboard. "Leo!" Ari roared, now waving at his friend to get his attention. The crowd around him misinterpreted the urgency in his voice, seeing it an attempt to restart the chant. So they did just that and stockpiled on Ari's 'supportive call'.

"You might wanna sit back down, Ari!" Ash yelped as he saw one of the stand's many security guards paying close attention to Ari's antics. Ari ignored both Ash and the security guard and made another frantic gesture in an attempt to grab Leoric's attention.

Down on the field, the trainer in question plucked a PokéBall off his belt. Since Anabel had sent a Pokémon out first in the last battle, it was his turn. He'd already won the match and the bonus point but he still wanted to send a message to whomever he was battling next round. And nothing was quite as intimidating as facing someone completely undefeated from the first round. _Besides… _he thought, smiling down at the PokéBall grasped between his fingers, _I haven't used you so far in the tournament. You could use a warm-up or two before the finals roll around to get the blood flowing._

He was halfway through the motion of throwing the PokéBall forward before his eyes caught sight of something. He froze mid-action when his keen vision found none other than Ari waving at him from his right, half-turning his head to get a better look. Ari wildly tried to signal something to him, a hand thrust far out in front of him. Through a squint, Leoric only barely managed to decipher the hand gesture Ari was giving him amongst the multitude of fanatics around him.

_A whitewash, eh? _Leoric sighed inwardly when he saw Ari holding three fingers up at him. Reluctantly, he returned the PokéBall in his hand to his waist. "Sorry, buddy," he apologised to the ball as his hand drifted away from it. The ball shook restlessly on his belt. "How's about a joyride after the battle to make it up to you?" he asked it. He didn't wait for an answer as he pulled another PokéBall off his belt, but the first ball seemed satisfied with the compromise, ceasing its activity as Leoric threw its ally forwards.

"Mawile, prepare to charge!"

"That was a close one," Ari mumbled as he dropped back into his seat. He looked over and gave a meek, apologetic handwave to the guard who'd been observing him before returning his eyes to the field. Leoric's small Steel-type waddled onto the field, the colossal jaws sprouting out of its head snapping angrily at the crowd behind it.

"Uh… what was that all about?" asked a thoroughly confused Ash.

"Since the other match was a whitewash," Ari began to explain, his eyes on Anabel as she filtered through her options, "If Leoric won _this _battle, Anabel would be knocked out of the tournament on countback. I was just letting Leoric know."

"I get that," Ash said as Anabel chose a Pokémon and picked up the Pokémon's ball. "What I don't understand is… why?"

"Oh," responded Ari. He was saved the worry of an explanation by Anabel's fortuitous timing. The Salon Maiden revealed her counter-selection to the world, and finally Ash saw a Pokémon of hers that he was familiar with. An enormous, golden-brown head dominated the Pokémon's thin vulpine frame, and the species' trademark twin silver spoons were clutched firmly between the Pokémon's sharp claws as its eyes locked onto Leoric's Mawile.

"Alright, go Alakazam!" cheered Ash loudly as the referee spelt things out for the two trainers. Ari, on the other hand, was staring intently at Leoric and his Mawile. He was oblivious to Anabel's quizzical eyes as the latter's attention was momentarily torn between the two boys. The bell's third and final '_ding' _snapped her attention back to where it was supposed to be, however.

Not wanting to let Leoric get a leg up on her again, she jumped into action. "Alakazam, Psybeam!"

"Sucker Punch!" Leoric grinned, having been expecting Anabel to open with offense.

Before Alakazam could take aim at Mawile or even point a spoon at it, the Deceiver Pokémon slashed an arm in Alakazam's direction. A blade of black energy sliced through the air and into Alakazam's midsection in the blink of an eye. The Psi Pokémon staggered backwards a step but a quick jolt of its psychic powers steadied itself.

"Now follow it up with Fake Tears!" continued Leoric as Alakazam refocused for the Psybeam. This time Alakazam got as far as charging the Psybeam attack, but when it saw the smaller Mawile hunch over and break down into hysterical sobbing it paused. Mawile looked to be in serious pain, its face straining in agony as fresh tears streamed down its face. And when Alakazam saw the visible pain in Mawile's large, round eyes, it just couldn't bring itself to torture the Pokémon by striking it down. It was all well and good to hit a wounded opponent in battle, but this was different.

"Alakazam!" yelled Anabel, trying to snap her Pokémon out of Mawile's deception, but to little avail.

Mawile stumbled forwards with its head in its hands. Tears seeped through the cracks between its fingers as it sought the comfort of the tall Pokémon across the field, limping haphazardly towards the Psychic-type. Alakazam relaxed slightly as it drew closer. It didn't know _why_, exactly, but it felt like it needed to help the distressed Pokémon. Tenderly, Alakazam reached a hand out.

"Vicegrip!"

"Alakazam, look out!" warned Anabel. Mawile dropped the charade in an instant and pounced at Alakazam with a mid-air twirl, the enormous steel jaws atop its head cracking a sinister smirk before snapping shut around Alakazam's outstretched hand. The appendages bit down with such force that Alakazam could feel the spoon bend slightly in its hand, and the Pokémon cried out in pain at the bone-crushing power behind the Vicegrip attack.

"Shake it off with Fire Punch!" Anabel ordered with a grimace.

Quickly recovering from the sneaky attack, Alakazam rounded on the Deceiver Pokémon, fire in its eyes to match its free hand. With a pained grunt Alakazam swung the flaming fist into the softer part of Mawile's body. Mawile cried out in genuine distress this time as Alakazam's Fire Punch connected with its unprotected cheek, a flood of red-hot pain surging through the small Pokémon's body and forcing it to relinquish its ironclad grasp on Alakazam's hand. The Steel-type dropped to the grassy ground with a nasty scorch mark on its cheek but was unprepared for what happened next.

Alakazam followed through with the Fire Punch, sheathing its injured hand in fire and driving an uppercut into Mawile's chin, catching Mawile completely unawares as the punch knocked it aside like a rag doll. A frown finally shook Leoric's upbeat expression as his Pokémon tumbled across the ground and landed upside-down between him and Alakazam.

"Psybeam, one more time!" pressed Anabel, and the crowd could smell an upset in the making, for they rallied behind Anabel's aggression. Alakazam thrust its dual spoons in front of itself, and they quickly began to glow with a shimmering rainbow hue.

"Hit it with Sucker Punch before it can get that Psybeam off!" said Leoric. Even in the normally embarrassing position Mawile was in, it still managed a wide-arm slash at Alakazam. Another blink and you'll miss it blade of black energy struck Alakazam in the chest and knocked it back a step. "Good shot, Mawile! Follow up with Flash Cannon!"

Alakazam was less than fazed by this second Sucker Punch, though, and it advanced a step to regain the territory it had lost as Mawile stole light from the surrounding area. A brief dimming of the field was cancelled out as Alakazam fired its Psybeam attack, and only a premature discharge from Mawile stopped the attack from scoring a direct hit, the weaker Flash Cannon spearing into the oncoming beam and negating it in a brilliant flash of rainbow light.

"Nice quick thinking, Leoric," commented Anabel quietly, knowing that she had the upper hand in the battle at the moment, and she decided to take advantage of Mawile's current lack of mobility. "Alakazam, settle down for a moment and use Calm Mind!"

"Mawile, get back on your feet!" Leoric barked to the upside-down Steel-type. Across the field, Alakazam shut its eyes and bowed its great head. A deep humming resonated from the Psi Pokémon to match the dull white aura encasing it as Mawile rolled over. By the time Mawile had found its feet – and not trodden on its steel jaws in doing so – Alakazam's aura had begun to fade back into nothingness.

Despite the disadvantage, Leoric wasn't disheartened that Mawile's inconvenience had let Alakazam pull off the Calm Mind. "Give it another Vicegrip, Mawile!"

Instead of faking injury to get Alakazam's guard down, Mawile took off at a full sprint across the field. Its large jaws flapped about in the wind behind it like an oversized ponytail as Mawile bore down on Alakazam. Sensing the approaching Pokémon, Alakazam's eyes darted open as its foe crossed the halfway line.

_Psychic!_

Alakazam jabbed an arm forwards, holding its spoon horizontally like a Roman emperor passing judgment on a gladiator. A furious blue shroud enveloped Alakazam, and Mawile's progress was brutally halted a moment later when the same thing happened to it. Brought to a complete stop by Alakazam's impressive Psychic, Mawile futilely struggled against the attack. Having already been fooled by the Pokémon's acting prowess, Alakazam was unmoved by Mawile's plight, instead raising its arm and lifting the helpless Steel-type high off the ground.

Almost as if to complete the metaphor Alakazam had created, the crowd surged forwards, perfectly mimicking a crowded coliseum baying for blood. So Alakazam gave them what they wanted, a roar of approval exploding forwards from the crowd as Alakazam gave Mawile the thumbs-down. A twitch of its hand sent Mawile crashing into the unforgiving ground, flattening the small Pokémon into the earth with a sickening _crunch_. Not satisfied with the impact, Alakazam lifted the dazed Pokémon up, only to slam it straight back into the ground. Again. And again. And again.

"Alright, Alakazam, that's enough for now," Anabel instructed, signalling for the Pokémon to stop its attack. The aura surrounding the two combatants quickly faded into the air as Alakazam ceased the Psychic.

On one side of the field, Alakazam was standing confidently and waiting for its opponent to return to its feet and continue the battle. On the other, Mawile was struggling to stand up again after having been subjected to the ground's hard countenance so many times. A testament to the resilience of his Pokémon, Leoric's Mawile eventually managed to find its feet and glare back at Alakazam. The bruises adorning its torso and assortment of scratches betrayed the damage it had received, but did nothing to quell the Steel-type's fighting spirit.

"Mawile, hit Alakazam with a Flash Cannon!" ordered Leoric, throwing an arm forwards. Though its body was battered, Mawile obliged and began stealing light from the arena once again. Anabel watched on as Mawile shaped the light into a large sphere of grey energy that grew slowly with each passing second.

"Finish Mawile off with Psybeam, Alakazam," she turned to her Alakazam, knowing that Mawile was at the end of its rope. Alakazam crossed its spoons in front of its face and pulsed Psychic energy through them, the silver objects flashing with the familiar rainbow energy as Alakazam aimed them at Mawile. The Steel-type narrowed its eyes at Alakazam in a show of defiance and attacked first.

With a nod of its small head, Mawile sent the Flash Cannon spearing across the field, the orb expanding as it swallowed up all the light that touched it on its way to Alakazam. Not to be outdone, Alakazam responded in kind and fired the Psybeam, the boosted Psychic-type attack blasting the Flash Cannon to smithereens and scattering the stored light in all directions. The scatter lit up the field within fifty feet of the impact, giving the crowd a perfect view of Alakazam's Psybeam striking Mawile clean in the head and knocking it into the ground with a dull _thud_.

"Mawile, are you okay?" yelped Leoric, peering anxiously over his Pokémon's horn-jaws to see the swirls in Mawile's eyes.

Not needing any further evidence, the referee swung his green flag into the air and pointed it at Anabel and Alakazam. "Mawile is unable to battle! Alakazam is the winner! M—!" his words were lost as the section of crowd closest to him burst into thunderous applause at Alakazam's victory. And none were more vocal than Ash or Ari, the two trainers overjoyed at Anabel scoring that all-important point that would see her through to the next round.

"Go Anabel!" Ash yelled happily, clapping a grinning Ari on the shoulder as the two trainers on the field recalled their Pokémon. Anabel looked to be extremely relieved to have pulled out the win, and took a few moments to say something to her Alakazam's PokéBall before she returned it to its spot on her belt. Leoric didn't seem too downcast about having lost the last battle, even if it _had _tarnished his trend of not giving any points to opposing trainers.

"So they're both through to the next round, right?" Ash asked Ari as the attendees around them started to filter towards the exits or surge closer to the front row for a better look.

"Yup," smiled Ari, confirming the score update on his phone and showing Ash. Indeed, Leoric was through in first place on ten points, with Anabel on five points alongside one of the other trainers. An asterisk beside Anabel's name signified that she had proceeded on countback, since she'd beaten the other five-point trainer in their corresponding match.

"Looks like they both got a good ending for the first round," nodded Ash, happy for the two trainers. In truth, he was thinking about whether the same thing could happen for both him and Ari.

"Let's hope the two of us get the same, am I right?" said Ari, winking at Ash as the latter turned to him in amazement. "Come on, let's go say hi to Anabel. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. She's been looking forward to catching up with you for a while, from what I've heard…"

* * *

><p><em>Not a bad way to finish a battle, if I do say so myself.<em>

_Thanks are to be extended to Dobi Boshi, Megalink1126, ShadowDragoon32, and severus6 for their reviews this last week. Kudos to severus6 for almost deciphering the meaning behind the chapter title, but alas, you were just a teensy bit off.  
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_"Chapter 17 - React" will be released next Tuesday, since I'm easing back into a regular once-a-week updating schedule until the American academic year is over. Even though I'm an Aussie. I'm pretty sure there's a Sequential Art comic that explains my logic somewhere...  
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_Now, the competition I was running for this chapter and the previous has been concluded, decided, and won. Congrats to Six String Bard for being the sneaky bastard who guessed the correct answer - BlazBlue - thanks to some well-timed help from his iTunes OST collections. For those wonder what the link was, the two titles were anagrams of track names from the BlazBlue OSTs. You should be able to figure them out with a teensy bit of research. Incidentally, several chapter titles so far have been anagrams that follow set themes.  
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_With my tumblr in swing, feel free to ask me any questions you feel like which pertain to Crown. I'll be more than happy to answer as many of them as possible, whether they be asked here, through PM, or on tumblr. It's an author's job to keep their audience well-informed, after all.  
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_As always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~  
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	18. React

**CHAPTER 17 – REACT**

A jubilant chant of "Strung! Strung! Strung!" rang out across the thousands and thousands of spectators in Stadium 5. A massive contingent of fans and otherwise neutral observers had hopped on the woman's bandwagon, cheering the model on in her second first-round match. They were all acting in unison, whether it be chanting her name, thumping the air with their fists or jumping up and down to rally more support.

The trainer herself swung her arms up a few times, playing on her popularity to rile the crowd up even further. She'd already secured her spot in the next round after just five battles, but she was enjoying herself way too much to slow down now, her face an image of pure joy as she rode the roller-coaster of noise being directed at her from the stands.

Her opponent wasn't so pleased with the proceedings. His two choices so far had been completely annihilated by Strung's, and the battle hadn't even lasted five minutes. He shot the beautiful woman a furious glare and made his last choice, hurling his PokéBall skywards with a backhand swing. "Venusaur, you can do it!"

With a flash of light to match the intensity of its trainer's expression, the boy's Venusaur stomped onto the field and sent a rough tremor through the stadium. He didn't want to use his strongest Pokémon this early in the tournament, but a whitewash here would put him at risk of dropping out in the first round. And under no circumstances was he going to let a girl be responsible for outing him from the tournament.

"Hurry up and make a choice already!" he howled impatiently, thoroughly flustered that Strung was paying more attention to her adoring fans than to him.

"Okay!" she laughed, clicking an Ultra Ball off her belt and sending out the Pokémon it contained. An enormous blue sea slug with a moss green carapace on its back plopped out with a sickly squelching sound. "Is this fine with you, little boy?" she asked brightly.

"Suits me just fine!" he answered arrogantly, smirking at the Gastrodon. Even if she was offering a mercy win by sending a Gastrodon out with such a type disadvantage, he'd take it without a second though.

"The final battle of this match will be Venusaur versus Gastrodon!" announced an elderly man with a long scar running down his temple. "Begin!" He thrust his flags into the air, signalling the battle's commencement alongside the _ding _of the starting bell.

"Venusaur, let's wrap things up quick! Knock that overgrown slug into next season with Leaf Storm!" the boy yelled, delighted at the chance to get some payback for his two earlier losses. With a bellowing roar Venusaur leant forwards, and a colossal burst of razor-sharp leaves scattered from the vast plant on its back. On command from their host, the thick swarm of leaves made a beeline for the motionless Gastrodon, the lethal projectiles whistling ominously as they sliced through the air.

"Gastrodon, Stockpile!" Strung giggled, having predicted the boy's attack. At once Gastrodon opened its mouth wide, sucking in a vast amount of air and inflating its gelatinous body to double its original size.

"Ha! You didn't even _try_ to dodge my Leaf Storm?" taunted the boy as Venusaur's Leaf Storm made contact. The leaves mercilessly raked across Gastrodon's soft skin for several harsh seconds, the super effective strike bringing a cry of pain from the Water-type Pokémon. When the barrage finally ended, Gastrodon was covered in wicked scratches and cuts across the entire front half of its body, and was teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Your turn!" Strung beamed, making the boy's head jolt up in confusion. "Gastrodon, Mirror Coat!"

"Oh, shit!" he yelped loudly. "Venusaur, get out of the way!" he shouted as Gastrodon sent an enormous sphere of pink light at his Pokémon. Venusaur's size made dodging a difficult task, but even then, the Mirror Coat's orb changed course when it noticed Venusaur's attempt to dodge. The boy's mouthed dropped open in sheer shock. He couldn't _think_ of a counter order, let alone provide enough coherence to _say _it. With no further objections, the sphere crashed into Venusaur's face, exploding with the force of a bomb against it.

The explosion sent Venusaur's considerable bulk flying towards the boundary wall, but the Seed Pokémon was unconscious the moment its feet left the ground; all the boundary did was halt Venusaur's momentum and give it something to drop down from. Another tremor shook the stadium when the Grass-type plummeted into the hard ground, and the referee was as stunned as Venusaur's trainer as the one-hit knockout.

It took several seconds of thunderous applause from the crowd to snap the referee out of his trance, and with a flourish he snapped his red flag to attention. "Venusaur is unable to battle! Gastrodon is the winner, and Ms Strung receives a third point, taking her to eight points in total!"

"Woohoo! Great work, Gastrodon!" Strung cooed, dashing out to give her Gastrodon an enthusiastic hug. She made sure not to touch any of the Water-type's numerous cuts, and Gastrodon showed its gratitude by nuzzling its horned head against her chest. The boy just hung his head in shame, recalled Venusaur, and trudged off the field, humiliated by the whitewash.

* * *

><p>"This is more than a little familiar," said Ash as he and Ari repeated their post-match ritual from Luuyn's match. Stationed outside Stadium 18 as swarm after swarm of spectators and trainers milled past, they waited for a sign of the two trainers they were looking for. Or even a glimpse of red-on-green, for Ari had sent his Gallade back inside to retrieve them. Ash focused his ears to the dismissed crowd, catching a few auditory glimpses of conversation from a gaggle of young teenagers as they walked by.<p>

"Did you see how strong that Blaziken is?"

"It was moving too fast for me to see it!"

"Still, you can't deny Anabel's got class, with how she handled that Mawile."

"Well yeah, but…"

"There they are!" piped Ari, nudging an elbow into Ash's side. Rather than pick up some more gossip from the masses, Ash tuned his senses towards the stadium, spotting the two combatants waving at him intermittently between the departing crowd. The pair seemed quite happy with the result, and were enjoying a quick laugh with Ari's Gallade as they made their way closer. Ari suppressed a chuckle when he saw Leoric's eyes briefly wander over a nearby woman in her late teens, his eyes casually focused on her chest. A playful slap in the arm from Anabel snapped him out of it.

"—_one _instead of everyone," Anabel tittered, making Leoric roll his eyes and stuff his hands in his pockets.

"I'm entitled to it," he retorted defensively, feigning indignation to Anabel. "Who _wouldn't_ take it as a compliment if they saw mechecking them out?" he asked, thumping his chest with a fist and grinning.

"I wouldn't, because it'd be downright creepy," countered Anabel, giggling when Leoric's mouth comically fell open.

"That's because you've got other stuff on your mind most of the time," he said. His green eyes flickered across the two trainers in front of him. "Speaking of other stuff, I spy a fugly brown hat!" he snickered as he drew level with Ari, flicking the boy's hat in an attempt to knock it off.

"You prat," Ari grumbled, a hand shooting up to secure it. Wanting to avoid any potential hostilities this time, Ari gestured between Ash and Leoric. "Ash, this delinquent here is Leoric, from the Hoenn region. Leo, this is—"

"I know who he is," interrupted Leoric, lightly clapping Ash on the arm and smiling at the Kanto native. "I was up in the stands watching your battle with Ari earlier," he explained to Ash, whose head dropped a little in a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

"Anabel was there, too," added Ari, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. Anabel's eyes briefly flashed towards the ground.

"Really? I didn't see either of you in the stands," Ash said as he racked his brains for memories of the match.

"Well you _were _a little preoccupied trying to deal with Ari," Anabel sighed, and she gave Ash a warm, apologetic smile. Beside them, Leoric hid a fit of laughter behind a sly grin. He raised an eyebrow at Ash, though the latter didn't notice it as he and Anabel talked about his opening battle. With those two occupied, he shot a sideways glance at Ari.

"I should be getting along now," Ari said sadly, not wanting to leave so soon. Leoric's grin widened.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Ash exclaimed suddenly, darting forward and catching Ari by the sleeve as the latter turned to leave. "How did I end up with your phone?" he asked. The question had been nagging at him ever since Anabel's battle had ended, an idea that had thoroughly perplexed him.

Ari shot Ash a surprised look, almost like he'd said something unbelievable. "I honestly thought you'd nicked it," Ari joked, shaking his head. "But thanks anyways for keeping a hold of it. Much better than it falling out of my pocket and some random thief stealing it," he smiled gratefully. One last look and a wave at Anabel and Leoric to say sorry for ducking off so quickly, and then he left, weaving seamlessly between the still-swarming crowds and blending in until he was indistinguishable from the general populace.

"Bye, Ari…" Ash muttered slowly, confused by Ari's parting comments. An uncomfortable silence ensued in the wake of Ari's abrupt departure, only punctured by the odd piece of wayward conversations drifting over from the passing crowds.

"So…" Leoric said, turning to Ash and Anabel with a cunning smirk on his lips. "Did you two ever… y'know…?" He gestured suggestively with his hands.

"What… LEO!" wailed Anabel, her face turning beet red at the idea.

"I'm not hearing a _no_," he sang, winking at Ash. "Come on, you can tell me what happened. I promise Ari won't hear a word of it!"

"A-Anabel, what's he talking about?" Ash asked nervously, completely thrown off-guard by a sly wink from Leoric.

"Aw, _something_ happened between you two! I could cut the U-S-T between you two with a butter knife, for crying out loud!" he laughed, throwing an arm around Ash's shoulders and marching him over to Anabel before giving her the same treatment. "Now, I'm not one to gossip – usually, at any rate – but I just can't ignore something like this. So spill."

"_Nothing_ happened!" Anabel shrieked, irritated by Leoric's insistent prying into her personal life. Or at least her lack of one with Ash. Leoric changed tact at the tone of her voice, rounding on Ash for answers.

"Nothing happened?" he repeated to Ash, looking for confirmation.

"Well, we had a battle for my Ability Symbol," replied the clueless Ash. "Two, actually, since she gave me a bit of a walloping in our first battle. But I got her back in the rematch."

"Ah, so _you're _that Pikachu trainer who swept through the Battle Frontier a year or two ago!" Leoric exclaimed, redirecting the conversation to spare Anabel any more embarrassment.

Ash nodded affirmatively. "That's me. Anabel was my sixth symbol, right before I challenged Brandon."

"And beat his Regice with your Pikachu?" asked Leoric seamlessly.

"Has Ari been talking to you about my achievements, too?" Ash replied incredulously, a bit taken aback at how everyone he met seemed to know pretty much everything about him. It was seriously beginning to unnerve him, since he barely knew anything about anyone else at this tournament. Take Leoric for example; all he knew about Leoric was what he'd found out in the last thirty minutes, consisting of three Pokémon, his name, and his home region.

"Word gets around when you do something as impressive as beat the Battle Frontier, mate," Leoric replied with a shrug. "Especially when you take down a legendary Pokémon in a straight one-on-one battle. There aren't a lot of people that can brag about having done that. Though it seems to be something of a skill of yours, beating legendaries," he elaborated, and Ash knew Leoric was no doubt referring to his battle with Tobias at the Sinnoh League.

_Am I the only one who doesn't do this research thing nowadays? _he asked himself, subconsciously signing himself up for taking lessons on how to do it properly.

"Speaking of Pikachu," Leoric frowned, waving a hand through the empty space over Ash's shoulder, "where _is_ the little powerhouse? He should've recovered from his battle with Electivire by now."

"Pikachu's still at the Pokémon Center. I was going to pick him up after my second battle, but then Anabel invited me over to this match, and I figured he could use a bit of a recharge," Ash answered airily. Gliscor and Infernape were still resting up, too, now that he thought about it.

"I was gonna say! Pikachu shouldn't _still _be out. It went down in a hurry, after all, so fatigue wouldn't've been a problem," commented Leoric. A scowl wound its way onto Ash's face at the obvious belittlement being directed his way. "Hey, I was at the match, remember? And no offense or anything, but you didn't really look like winning a point."

"Leo!" Anabel snapped, folding her arms across her chest and glaring furiously at him, prompting a motion of surrender.

"I said 'no offense'!"

"How do you two know each other, anyways?" Ash curiously asked out of the blue, breaking the tension between Anabel and Leoric. "I'm guessing Ari introduced you two to each other?"

"It's actually the other way around," Leoric corrected with a wag of his finger, drawing a surprised look from Ash.

Anabel nodded in agreement. "I met Ari a long time ago, even before I became a member of the Battle Frontier. About a year after I joined, I ran into Leoric, who was going around visiting some of the battle facilities. He and Ari were a lot alike back then, and they pretty much clicked once they hung out for a while."

"Geez, Ana, make it sound like I'm gay why don't you?" groaned Leoric, making a big display of shuffling away from the Salon Maiden.

"Wait, _you_ challenged the Battle Frontier, too?" Ash blurted out.

"Something like that," he said unhelpfully.

A round of suppressed giggling from Anabel drew their attention, even managing to bring Leoric back into focus. "You two are a lot alike, too, you know," she smiled. A pair of raised eyebrows and a glance between themselves later, and Anabel resigned herself to explaining. "Neither of you can go two minutes without battles of some kind, whether it's being in one, looking for another, training, or just _talking _about them." She laughed and affectionately prodded Ash's cheek with a finger.

"Battling gives me and my Pokémon a chance to do what we love, so what did you expect? The thrill of the fight's just a bonus to us," Leoric grunted impassively.

"A real eye of the tiger, this one is," Anabel whispered mischievously to Ash, before she gave Leoric a gentle backhand to the stomach. Leoric expertly caught her wrist in a hand and guided it over to Ash, lightly slapping him in the face with it.

"Ooh, lovers quarrel," he cackled as Anabel murmured a quick apology.

Ash simply joined Leoric in laughing. His antics were a good contrast to the seriousness of the tournament. A childish firework. It was probably because Leoric was already through to the next round that he was acting like this, but a bit of comedy was always helpful. It just reminded Ash that the tournament wasn't all about winning. It was also about encouraging friendships, something which he'd noticed in all the other PLC tournaments he'd been to over the years.

A silent smile crossed Anabel's lips at the sight and sound of the boys' infectious laughter. It had been a stressful morning. In truth, she was just relieved to be in the second round. She admitted to herself that she needed to unwind, and maybe it was fate that she'd finally run into Ash only after her first-round matches had finished.

"I think I'm gonna take a leaf out of Ari's book and move my ass somewhere else so you two can be alone," Leoric said with a sprightly snigger. Before Ash or Anabel could protest he held a hand up to silence them. "I owe one of my Pokémon a joyride, too, and he gets upset if I don't hold up my end of our deals," he added affectionately, tapping a finger to the first PokéBall on his belt.

"I was meaning to ask you about that, now that you mention it," Anabel remarked, folding her arms again and staring at Leoric through narrowed eyes.

"About my joyriding?" he repeated, confused.

"I'm sure it's vaguely related to that," she asserted, "but I was actually talking about why you swapped PokéBalls when you saw Ari waving at you."

"It gave me a second to reconsider, and Mawile could use the experience of battling against a strong opponent. And before you accuse me of lying," Leoric raised his voice to shoot Anabel down the moment she opened her mouth for a verbal retaliation, "remember that I rarely use my stronger Pokémon until the third or fourth rounds of most tournaments."

"Did you throw that last battle?" she asked earnestly, cutting straight to the real question she wanted answered and not bothering to try and steer the conversation towards it.

"Does it matter?" he asked her with a passive expression. "Don't get too worked up over the 'what if's' is what I'm saying," he clarified as she gave him a look as though he'd just slapped her. He nodded at Ash in recognition of their first meeting, turned away and began to walk in the same direction Ari had.

"You should spend the rest of the day relaxing, Ana. Get Pash to help you out with that if you want to!" he laughed over his shoulder before he was swallowed up the last remnants of the crowd.

Anabel peeked at Ash as the latter watched Leoric leave, and a gentle pink blush crept onto her cheeks at Leoric's parting comment, knowing that he'd chosen that particular misconstruction of Ash's name on purpose. _I'll have to sock him one for that next time_, she told herself.

"Funny guy, isn't he?" she said, sidling up to Ash. "You'd think he and Ari were brothers with the way they carry on sometimes."

"He certainly seems like one of those older brother types, at any rate," Ash chuckled. He spotted one the island's many, many drinks vendors patrolling the plaza around them out of the corner of his eye. Naturally, his body chose that exact moment to tell him he was dehydrated. "Wanna grab a drink, Anabel? I'm parched from all this talking!"

"Sounds like a good plan," Anabel chortled, walking over to the wheeled cart with him. She was quite flushed herself, and she knew that it wasn't all on account of the high temperature and humidity.

"My shout," Ash said cleverly, doing the gentlemanly thing.

"You don't have to…" she pointed out, but nonetheless she accepted Ash's chivalry as Ash caught the attention of the vendor's owner.

"Two battles—I mean _bottles _of water, please!" he requested, and both he and Anabel burst into laughter at the slip of the tongue. "I guess I really _can't _stop thinking about battles!"

"Told you so," Anabel said cheekily, graciously taking the bottle Ash handed her. "Thanks…"

"What did Leoric mean with that whole helping you to relax thing, exactly?" he asked as they headed for the shade of the shop awnings off to the plaza's left.

"Uhh…" Anabel started, completely unsure of what to say. She didn't know exactly what Leoric meant either, though knowing him it probably had some dirty connotations to it. "Maybe he just meant we should go for a walk. That usually helps me relax."

"Why don't we walk over to the Pokémon Center, then?" Ash suggested warmly. "I need to pick Pikachu up from there, so you can say hi to him, too!"

Anabel didn't have any objections to Ash's notion, so she nodded and let Ash lead the way. Ash took a swig from his bottle and a handful of steps before something dawned on him, something that made him feel like an absolute idiot. He turned to Anabel with a sheepish look on his face.

"Which way's the Pokémon Center, again?"

* * *

><p><em>So we get our first look at Strung in battle, eh? Only a glimpse, but you'll see more of her soon enough. Anyone keeping track of the tournament so far should be able to pick up on a few hints in that battle, too. And a little ship tease to boot in that last part. Fun, fun, fun.<br>_

_Apologies for the delay, but what with Diablo III coming out recently, I figured it'd be better if I put this chapter out on Thursday. Not to mention I've been playing through a romhack of Pokémon Black (called Pokémon Blaze Black) which is pretty fricking awesome, if I do say so myself. You should all give it a look-over at the very least; if you plan on playing, my advice is to use No$GBA as your emulator._

_Sorry, got sidetracked for a moment.  
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_Anyways, Chapter 18 will be titled "Vis-á-vis" and, barring unforseen circumstances, will be released next Thursday, the 24th. It'll feature a throw-back to the International Police side of things, and it's the first of a two-parter that revolves around them. Hopefully it'll be as entertaining as the last IP double, too. Aside from Russ and Michaels making reappearances, a new character's going to be introduced.  
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_A quick thanks on the side to Megalink1126 for his reviews this lsat week, which pushed Crown up to 100 reviews! I appreciate any and all input and/or thoughts on the chapters.  
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_As always, keep reading, and don't forget to review~  
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